A Dream's End
by Araclyzm
Summary: “I tell a tale of a love that has existed for as long as time has lived…” Their story is ancient but classic – a fairy tale, a dream. One young ninja dreamed of a love like theirs. Then a certain flower girl gave her a chance.
1. To Watch the Stars

**A Dream's End**

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**[a.n.]** Well, this is certainly a change. A Squiffie that isn't a one shot? Ah! Well, folks, I have finally gotten around to writing. Yes, I know, you've all heard that about a million times before by none other than I, and yes, dearlings (ohno! I'm turning into Nii…), you're probably all fed up with me, but this time it's real, and this time I'm positive my work with continue throughout the summer. - Well, this is my precious little Squiffie, so be nice! I love it, and I love you, so please get along! **[araclyzm]**

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**To Watch The Stars**

A flock of birds flew in an arrow across the navy sky, almost invisible among the millions of stars that already took up the dark expanse. It was vast, the beautiful indigo above, stretching for as far as her eyes could see. A breeze swept by with hardly a swish or sound, but she felt it on her uncovered skin. Breathing deeply, she opened her mouth to speak.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered softly, her eyes never leaving the sky. The birds that had passed indiscernibly across the layer of darkened space became specks of dust and disappeared into the horizon. The moon hid behind unseen clouds, and the speaker herself was shrouded in darkness.

The one she had spoken to didn't seem surprised, and if he was, he didn't show it when he answered her.

"I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the stars," he murmured, the baritone in his voice sending chills up her spine. He stared at the back of her raven-haired head, one eyebrow raised almost unnoticeably, adding, "I didn't expect you to be up here."

"Why not?" she asked. Her voice stayed at the same volume, but acquired a nervous tone that went nearly overlooked.

"I thought you'd be down at the party," he responded casually. "I thought all the lights, decorations, food, and dancing–"

"Dancing?" she interrupted, her voice filled with mirth. "Don't you mean the action of utterly degrading yourself in a fruitless body movement generally done in front of, oh, I don't know, a rather large group of people?" She smiled to herself and turned her torso so she could see the man who stood behind her. "Isn't that Aerith's thing, Squall?"

The man's stoic face took on a flash of annoyance before reverting to the blankest look the nineteen-year-old Yuffie Kisaragi had ever seen.

"_Leon_, Yuffie, my name is Leon," he said, irritated with her in an instant. "I really wish you would get it right."

Yuffie grinned, ignoring his request and taking on a Genie-of-the-lamp persona for a second. "Truly, Squall? Is that what you wish?"

The twenty-seven-year-old Squall Leonhart growled loudly. "Forget it," he grumbled, turning his eyes to the sky. Yuffie smiled slightly.

"Ah, Squallie, Squallie, Squallie, Squallie…"

Squall growled. "How can you say that name four times in one sentence and not drop dead?" he mumbled, gagging, the look on his face a classic of disgust.

"Because you haven't killed me yet?" Yuffie volunteered. Suddenly, a thought struck her with such strength that her jaw visibly fell open, causing Squall's eyebrow to arch again despite his exasperation at his younger companion.

"What?" he asked brusquely. Yuffie shook her head.

_I just had an almost civilized conversation with Squall Leonhart. Am I dreaming?_

"Squa- Leon," Yuffie said cautiously, rising to her feet and turning around to face him, "Are you…um…okay?" Squall's eyebrow rose a few more inches.

"Yes," he answered almost instantly. "Are you?"

Yuffie half-glared at him. "Yes," she murmured through gritted teeth. "I just…never mind." She turned around, rubbing her hands up and down the length of her upper arms. "To answer your earlier question, I'm not at the party because it's really boring. Boring music, boring people, boring dances…" She sighed, looking around her shoulder. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. And I'm here, in this particular spot, because, like you, I wanted to see the stars."

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Squall murmured. Yuffie glanced at him, expecting to see his eyes watching the stars, only to find them trained on her.

Pretending not to see, she gave a fleeting look to the ground below her perch on the gizmo shop roof, then to the sky.

"Yeah," she said quietly, enjoying the moment, "They really are."

_{tbc}_

**[a.n]** So…hate it? like it? wish you'd never read it? Let me know – burn me to the ground or send me to the sky. - See you around. **[araclyzm]**


	2. To Stain the Memory

**A Dream's End**

**[a.n.]** Er…I guess I forgot about the disclaimer in the prologue…Oh well! Everyone here knows that I couldn't possibly own Kingdom Hearts, so there's no reason to penalize me for not mentioning that I don't. Anyway…last chapter was short and without a real meaning, but I felt like writing it for some…reason. A huge heyla and thank-you are due to Lithe, Zanisha, XxNinja-SongstressxX, and pingpong867. - Enjoy!** [araclyzm]**

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**To Stain the Memory **

**p.o.v. Yuffie**

Yawning, I, Yuffie Kisaragi, a ninja of nineteen years, leaned back in the stiff, straight-backed chair I'd been forced into and stared at the wall opposite me. It looked so plain and boring, standing there all alone, without anything to adorn it. Kinda like how I felt now. Sitting quite alone in the near-empty café, I drummed my fingers monotonously on the tabletop, resting my head in my other free hand, my elbow on the table. A brown mug with a bland design emblazoned on the handle steamed with fresh coffee – my third since I arrived. A half-eaten roll with butter lay on a napkin near the mug.

I continued to stare at the wall. How long had it been since I arrived? I had no idea.

"Yuffie dear," sighed a benevolent voice, its owner pulling up a seat to join me, "are you sure you were supposed to meet at this time?"

I turned reluctantly to look at her, sighing. "Yes, Cci," I said, shaking my head. "I'm absolutely positive. Aerith is never late, though, and I really have no idea what could possibly hold her up for an hour." I smiled. "I'm sorry, I really am."

The other woman laughed heartily. "What're you apologizin' for?" Cci smiled, the deed giving her face an even gentler look. "It's fine, dear. My first customer of the day is usually Aerith, that's why I was just wondering." She rose, brushing her forest green t-shirt with a wrinkled hand. "Just tell me if you need anythin' else, dear." She flashed another smile and walked back toward the counter, disappearing in a door behind it.

I chuckled to myself. Cci was the owner of the café, and much older than I – around fifty, perhaps, had I bothered to guess. Her hair was only slightly graying, brunette locks streaked almost naturally with white. The green t-shirt she'd been wearing accentuated her amazingly green eyes, and the denim jeans she always wore gave her appearance an air of kindness. Rather than trying to look young, Cci naturally looked it despite her age.

"Yuffie! Oh my dear lord, I'm so sorry!" someone yelled. Knowing who it was, I turned around in my seat and faced a baffled-looking Aerith.

"You're late," I responded immediately, exasperation seeping into my features and my voice. Running a hand through the black hair that fell unevenly to my neck, I sighed, shaking my head. "And I always thought I was the late one." I looked up, noticing the silence that answered; Aerith was still staring at me as though I'd taken on the form of someone else. "What!?"

"Yuffie, I asked you to meet me at ten o'clock," she said slowly. A look of sudden realization crossed my face. "How long have you been here?"

I groaned as if on cue, my stupidity becoming apparent. _Of course!_ Last night, Aerith had left me a note scribbled hastily saying to meet her at ten. I woke up for some reason at eight and, figuring I was supposed to meet Aerith at nine, I'd gone and left, expecting my thoughts to be correct.

"Since nine," I answered, embarrassed, standing up and checking the clock on another wall. It was exactly ten. Cci reappeared at the counter at the other side of the open-air café, apparently mystified.

"Miss Aerith." She sounded mystified as well. "How are you?"

Aerith smiled, the action alighting her face and her eyes. "Perfect, Cci." She turned to me, and I glared at her. "Sorry, Yuf."

"Great," I grumbled. "This is just great. I actually come to a meeting before time, only to find that it's a whole _hour_ before time." I growled. "Leave it to only me to either come too late or too early."

Aerith giggled. The twenty-three-year-old was actually quite pretty, considering the drab city in which she – and I – now lived. She was a good five feet, four inches in height, the same height as me, with long, light-auburn hair reaching halfway down her back, and, like Cci, she had green-green eyes that forever shone with kindness and understanding. But unlike most, there was a kind of hidden sadness buried deep beneath the compassion and radiance generally shown – and I, like a sister to Aerith, knew exactly why.

"Ah, Yuffie Kisaragi, let's forget it for now. I want you to come with me." She grabbed my hand and began to pull me out of the café; already, more patrons were walking in, looking drear and petulant of the new dawning day – a Saturday, of all days – but compliant all the same.

"Put it on my tab, Cci!" I called over my shoulder, unable to resist the firm hand clamped tightly and resolutely on my wrist.

"Will do, dear!" came the faint call back. I grinned, taking the second to gaze at my surroundings. Aerith was dragging me out of the first district and into the second, which was already bustling with morning shoppers. Then, past the second district and into the third, which, unlike the second, was much quieter, and towards a wooden door with a fading flame.

"Aerith, wanna squeeze a little tighter?" I asked with a cynical air, biting the inside of my cheek. "I can still feel my hand." Aerith didn't answer. Then I noticed where we were. "Where are you taking me?" I asked warily. "Merlin's?"

Aerith nodded, shooting a quick flame-spell at the door and then leading me in. "Yep. The Mystical House." She smiled. "I've got to meet Merlin and the Fairy Godmother for something."

"Something?" I asked, hopping across three of the floating, moving rocks.

"Yes, something." Aerith followed me. I glanced at her and noted that she wasn't wearing her trademark pink dress, and instead had opted for white shorts and sneakers and a tie-dye pink tee, her hair braided neatly down her back.

"Is this all you wanted to see me for?" I wondered, impatience again flooding my face. "Just to see Merlin?"

Aerith looked at me then, both of us having reached the tiny island. There were many times when Aerith gave me that same look, seconds before launching into a heated argument about how I made myself feel. According to her, I was way too hard on myself when I said I was nothing a sight to see. Despite my continuous protests, Aerith thought I was quite pretty. My dark hair reached just to my neck, the uneven bangs framing my face usually accompanied by a silver headband. Being a ninja, I was very petite and very light, attributes that usually made me seem much younger than I actually was. Can't blame the people who make the mistake, though, as my 'deep indigo eyes' were that of a child's, confirming my outward appearance.

But there is more to me than just how I look. Aerith said once that no matter how old I would become, I would always have the spirit of a child. Since the time that I was four – which is as long as I can remember – I had been buoyant, bouncy, and optimistic, traits that Aerith both admired and encouraged.

"Yes, just to see Merlin." Aerith raised a hand to the sheet that served as the door, only to have it pushed aside and opened as soon as her hand was lifted.

"Miss Aerith!" came the jovial greeting of the most famous magician, Merlin. "How wonderful of you to come!"

Adorned in his pointy sky blue hat and robe, the elderly wizard's long silver beard and mustache swished as he came out of the Mystical House to greet Aerith with a warm embrace. Aerith giggled.

"Merlin, how'd you know I was here?" she asked, accepting his invitation to come in.

"I'm a wizard, dear, a wizard!" he answered joyfully. He looked to me, as I had entered the tiny house after Aerith had, almost discreetly as was my way. "Ah, Miss Yuffie!" he welcomed, smiling. I couldn't help smiling in response. "Good to see you, dear girl, good to see you."

"And you too, Merlin!" I accepted another hug with pleasure and then stood back near the tiny chalkboard to see what it was that Aerith needed to discuss with the wise old sorcerer. Beside me on the desk were various odds and ends, of which I took to examine for the second. The drawers were askew as the rest of the Magician's Study was, but showed that the wizened wizard was too busy to be bothered with cleaning.

"Now, Merlin," Aerith began, walking toward some books heaped into a pile in a corner. She picked one up, checked the binding and leafed through it quickly before placing it back down on the untidy mound. "Er…where is the…book? The one that I asked you for?"

"Ah yes, the book, the book…" Merlin went over to the table in the middle of the room, muddled, as the floor was, with papers and books. "Hm…now where is my wand?" he wondered aloud, moving a heap of messy parchment aside to check for it.

Figuring I could help him search, I looked around my spot near the door and saw the Fairy Godmother's minuscule carriage. Smiling in remembrance of every other time I'd summoned the Fairy Godmother, I touched it.

A loud _whoosh!_ made me yelp and jump back involuntarily as a flash followed the sound and the Fairy Godmother appeared before Merlin, Aerith, and I, smiling as usual and sparkling from head to toe with magic. In her left hand was a small, thin wand; her own wand. In her right was a long, thicker one; Merlin's.

"Ah, Merlin, you old fool," she murmured affectionately, waving her own wand about the cabin. The books in the corner rose as one and shuffled themselves into three neat piles lined against the wall. The papers littering the table arranged themselves and the books that had accompanied them flew to the piles in the corner. The multiple items on the desk flew to their prospective places and the drawers that had lain open or on their side flew back to their places.

Merlin, a lost expression on his face, suddenly jumped up and laughed. Delighted, Aerith, the Fairy Godmother, and I soon joined in.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother," Aerith and I giggled in unison.

"Good morning, dearies," the Fairy Godmother spoke in return, gentleness etched into her eyes and face. "Merlin, my friend," she then said, turning to Merlin, "I believe this is yours." She handed him the longer of the two wands. "And you owe me for the cleaning."

Merlin chuckled warmly, taking the wand and pointing it toward his desk. "Yes, Fairy Godmother, I know." He flicked his wrist once, twice, and a drawer flew open. A mangled book floated out of it and toward Aerith. "There you are, Miss Aerith, just as you requested."

Aerith caught the book in midair, excitedly paging through it. "What's that?" I inquired, trying to catch a peek over my friend's shoulder. But Aerith shut it with a snap, grinned mysteriously at me (of course earning a look of bafflement and perhaps fear on my part), then looked back toward Merlin and rushed over to hug him.

"Thank you, Merlin! Ooh, you'll love it, truly you will!" She quickly thanked the Fairy Godmother as well, then clamped a hand painfully on my wrist – allowing me a very fast thank you and goodbye to both magicians – and began pulling me all the way back to the first district café.

"Oy! Aerith, please, _please_ tell me what's going on?" I kept pleading. Aerith slid into an unoccupied seat and I took another, staring expectantly at her.

"No," Aerith said coolly, beaming secretively, "And you won't find out until tomorrow." A waitress dropped two menus in front of us, grinned fleetingly, and walked away. She went ignored, however, as I was insisting relentlessly that Aerith tell me what she was up to, but no one's feelings were hurt there.

I moaned, frustrated. "You force me to wake up at eight in the morning so I can be ready by nine in the morning to go pick up the oldest book known to humankind, and then you deny me the right to know why the heck you did so in the first place?"

"First of all," Aerith countered, her voice filled with suppressed amusement, "I did not 'force' you to wake up at nine in the morning-"

"Yes you did!" I cried indignantly, crossing my arms. She _so_ did!

"I _convinced_ you to _meet _me at _ten_ in the morning so we could go get something at the Mystical House. I never gave you a set time to wake up, and I don't force people to do things." A hidden sparkle in her told me she thought this situation funnier than it should have been.

"Whatever!" I barked back, clearly annoyed. Leave it to Aerith to prove me wrong…as if I'd ever admit it! "But getting a dusty ol' book from the Magician's Study is not an emergency! And if memory serves you considered this morning's meeting an _emergency_!" The last part came out as a hiss, causing Aerith to giggle out loud.

A figure came up behind Aerith. "What's so funny?"

"Cloud!" my older friend hailed blushingly, rising from her seat to 'greet' her boyfriend with a hug and a series of kisses. I made a face behind their backs, gagging noiselessly. A few customers nearby giggled at my antics, and I smiled at the fact that I could entertain them.

A few minutes passed before I had to cave. I'm sure, had I not, Cci's floor would have been bathed in vomit. "Ew! Get a room you two," I squealed, looking at the floor for lack of anywhere else to look with a mock-disgusted look on my face.

Cloud Strife was twenty-seven years old, and one of Aerith's and my oldest friends. Aerith, however, was head-over-heels in love with Cloud, and the feeling was mutual. I, however, would always be the six-foot-tall "Blondie's" baby sister – not that I minded much. More often than not, I'd choose to bug the hell out of Cloud because he's so easy, but most of the time it was Cid, the gummi pilot, and the second-to-last person from my past, that was victim to my teasing.

It was some minutes before Aerith and Cloud pulled away from each other – at my aggravating insistence that I'm sure made them mad regardless of Aerith's gentle nature and Cloud's acquiescent one – and sat quite close to each other, still across from me, though I'm quite thankful for that.

"Yuck," I muttered, making another face that made Aerith chuckle quietly.

"So what are you two doing here?" Cloud asked, tearing his eyes away from Aerith to look at me. I stuck a tongue out childishly, but only because this was my 'big brother' here. Had it been anyone else, I would have tried to grow up – as a certain someone always chided me to – but not this time.

"We went to see Merlin, got a book, came back," I answered tediously, playing with a fork, "and since Aerith forced me to, she's paying for breakfast."

"You already ate," Aerith said, looking astonished.

"Well I'm still hungry, so get me waffles." I smiled gleefully, causing Aerith to shake her head. Waffles were my favorite – everyone who knew me knew that.

"Fine, fine." Aerith reached beneath her chair and pulled up the book, relinquishing it to me with an air of someone not surrendering, but tactically retreating. "It's a play."

"A play?" I raised an eyebrow, opening the broken book and turning to the first page. "What kind of play?"

"Shakespearean," Aerith said proudly. "One of the greatest ever written: _Romeo and Juliet_."

At that, my eyebrow rose a few more centimeters. "Who?"

Cloud stared at me. "You don't know who Shakespeare is?" _No, actually,_ I said in my head.

"Er…am I supposed to?"

Cloud snorted and looked through a menu. "Hm…pancakes look good."

I flipped through page after page of the book Aerith had given me, and with each turn, I felt the look on my face grow increasingly confused.

"Aerith…" I said cautiously. "Does this come with subtitles or something? 'Cause it isn't in any language I know of…"

Aerith chuckled. "It's perfectly legible, Yuffie."

"No it's not. What the heck's a 'doth'?"

This time both Cloud and Aerith snorted, but all in good fun. I glowered with the indignity, but said nothing else, should I make even more of a fool of myself. So what if I didn't know who Shakespeare was? I bet that a third of the population in Traverse Town didn't know he existed.

"It's an old word, Yuffie." Aerith sighed, brushing a tress of hair out of her eyes so she could study the menu more. "Don't worry, you'll learn soon enough."

"I have to learn it?"

Aerith shook her head as a waitress walked over, prepared to take our orders. "You'll see, so stop complaining." I handed the book back over to her, a feeling tugging at the back of my mind that could have been regret that I had bothered to show up for Aerith's 'emergency'.

"One Pancake Deluxe," Cloud said.

"Make that two," Aerith put in.

"Three, actually." A smirk appeared on Cloud's face, and he was the only one of the three at the table who didn't turn around.

"Well speak of the devil," he murmured. "I see Squall Leonhart has finally come to grace our presence."

"Oh great," Aerith and I both pronounced at the same time, but in two different tones; Aerith's voice held glee that another friend had come to join us, and mine held a quality that, had anyone bothered to notice, proposed that I was anything but happy about the visitor's arrival.

"Just Leon will suffice, Blondie," Squall responded soon after.

"As will 'Cloud' if you don't mind," Cloud retorted, smirking. Squall gave him a blank look. It was no secret that he preferred above all else to be called 'Leon' rather than his true name, Squall. What _was_ a secret was why, ever since before I could remember, he chose it.

Squall Leonhart was my partner-in-fighting – and the love of my life. But I'll get into more of my childish flights of fancy later, eh? Twenty-seven-year-old Squall Leonhart: how do I describe him? Someone should take on the challenge of writing a biography about him. I'd quote it every single day, should they accomplish the feat. But one word comes to mind whenever I think of his name: love – oh hey, wait, did I just think that? No, no, scratch that. Not love. Er…stone! Yes, that's it; the first that comes to mind is the word stone. It's absolutely true, too. Squall Leonhart has a heart of stone, a soul of stone, a visage of stone. His features are unwavering and handsome, as is his trained and disciplined mind.

The swordsman, first and foremost, is nothing at all like me or Aerith or even Cid – if you should dare to try and compare Squall to him. More so, he resembles Cloud except for the fact that no one had yet softened Squall's heart. His attributes are striking – dark russet hair reaching his shoulders and styled in spikes, and the bluest cerulean eyes I have ever seen. He is a former SeeD soldier of Balamb Garden – a world eaten away by the Heartless many years ago, before even my home of the Hollow Bastion.

Oh, and if you're wondering about that – I'll get to that later, too.

The man I'd been speaking of before sat in the only other vacant seat, which just so conveniently was beside me. I worked hard to maintain control over the blush now threateningly rising in my cheeks; I was prone to blush uncontrollably whenever the former SeeD in question happened to be near.

The waitress looked upon the four of us with renewed interest. I felt like glaring at her and saying, "Get your filthy eyes off of my Squallie!" but rather liking that I still had a head on my shoulders, I kept quiet, settling with a scathing glance in her general direction.

"So that'll be three of our Pancake Deluxe then?" the waitress said with a sparkling smile.

"No," I snarled, vexed by her suddenly spunky attitude, "I'll have a Waffle Breakfast." The waitress shot a fierce look back at me, but jotted my order down and nodded all the same.

"They'll be ready in ten minutes." The waitress turned away, but not without one final look at my Squall.

My Squall! _My_ Squall? Shaking my head to remove any such thoughts out of it (for now), I looked down at my napkin, tracing the little patterns imprinted upon it with just my eyes, whereas my hands stayed inactive in my lap.

The Hollow Bastion is my home world – or it was, until the Heartless consumed it in darkness. Now, it is a world of emptiness and desolation, barren and destroyed. Heartless now run free there as they do in the rest of the worlds. The castle that I used to live in with Aerith, Cloud, Cid, and Squall is now ruined, the splendor and beauty of the lush gardens and sparkling waterfalls wasted and shattered.

I was nine when it happened.__

_"Aerith! Aerith, they're here, they're here!" a nine-year-old version of me cried, running down the long hall before the library before bursting into it. Ten pairs of eyes turned toward me, looking astonished. Panting, I slumped to my knees, my tiny body unaccustomed to running so fast for such a long distance – the waterfalls to the library – in such a short time._

_"Yuffie?" answered the bearer of one of the pairs of eyes. She was thirteen at the time, and old enough to know the truth about our life and the world around her. Being four years my senior, she was my protector in many ways, and being older, she was my link to everything the adults discussed. But this time, however, there was something she neglected to mention, of which I later found was supposedly for my own good: a hostile force was invading the Hollow Bastion._

_She rose from the crowd of people several yards away near the stairs and ran over to me, crouching beside me and holding me. She was my adopted big sister since I was four, I think, or maybe even before that, and she was the only one who I'd have agreed to anything for. _

_"Yuffie, what is it? Who's here?" she asked soothingly, hugging me close. Behind her at the table, the people who'd been conversing stared fiercely, some of them frightened. I remember seeing Cloud and Squall's seventeen-year-old expectant eyes staring at me as well. _

_"I don't know!" I had moaned, burying my wide, terrified eyes into my hands. "They…they're just coming! Aerith, what are they?" _

_"The Heartless," gasped someone. Everyone looked in that direction. It was a man I didn't remember the name of, but he was among those who looked just as terrified as I was. "They're here."_

_It was at that moment that all hell broke loose. As soon as the words left the mouth of the young man, a door opened somewhere and screams filled the library as black monsters flooded the large area. Cloud and Squall immediately ran over to Aerith and I, guarding us even though they could have run. But the Heartless were coming in through the second floor. The remaining seven people of the meeting scattered in a panic. Two didn't make it out of the library. _

_Cloud and Squall quickly took Aerith and I out of the library, forcing us to run as fast as we could to the gummi station on the ninth floor, only accessible by a secret lift established by a person whose name I have also forgotten. People were already there, scrambling to get into whatever ship they could. Whoever got stuck behind stayed behind. _

_Neither Cloud nor Squall were prepared to let Aerith or me be one of those. _

_"Aerith, take Yuffie and get on that gummi," Cloud directed, pointed to the nearest gummi, its door open with the pilot waiting anxiously for them to get on. I heard yelling and cries, roars of the monsters and shrieks of the people. A dark storm began with the noise like a candle lit with a flame. Rain came pouring down, obscuring my vision. I shivered despite or perhaps because of my dread and wonder._

_"But, Cloud, no, what about you?" Aerith screamed above the tumultuous noise._

_"THREE SEATS LEFT!" the pilot yelled. I remember myself feeling helpless and lost. I didn't like the feeling, but I yearned to get on the gummi and out of the Hollow Bastion forever. _

_"Aerith…" I tugged on the sleeve of her sweater, pointing toward the gummi. She ignored me, but out of despair._

_"Squall, go with them and protect them," Cloud ordered, ignoring her as she did me. The Heartless were appearing; they had discovered the secret lift. Now, only those who had weapons and the guts were fighting them off and the only gummi left now was the one with the petrified pilot and three unoccupied seats._

_Squall picked me up, placed me in Aerith's arms and shoved her onto the gummi. The pilot instantaneously hastened to seat us. Aerith was crying every second, her hand and face pressed against the window, pleading unheard pleas for Cloud to join her. I didn't know it then – I do know it now – but Aerith had been in love with him. She wasn't going to leave without him. _

_"Cloud, no!" Aerith yelled, as Cloud marched over to Squall. _

_Squall stood obdurately by the ramp. "I'm staying here. Get on the gummi!"_

_"No, Leon, you!" With that, Cloud shoved his friend onto the ramp and the pilot closed it without a second thought. Squall roared with rage, but the pilot ran to his seat, shouting orders at his co-pilot to take off. Within seconds, we had left the ground, Squall thunderous with anger, Aerith stricken with grief, me confused with fear and naïveté, and the entire ship shaken with the horror and shock of what had just happened._

_To the others on the ship with me, I didn't seem know it then – I was too young to, apparently – but our home was gone. Little did they know that I was perfectly aware that something was wrong. My nine-year-old logic stated that the big black monsters had eaten everything I loved, and there was no way for me to get it back. Cloud, my big brother seemingly, was gone along with the Hollow Bastion. And my life would never be the same._

Three months after the Hollow Bastion was destroyed and we escaped so narrowly, we docked in Traverse Town. Some of the original survivors of the escape didn't make it off the Hollow Bastion, having been destroyed in mid-air or sucked through some black hole, lost in time and space forever. My parents were among those who died on the planet, rather than whilst they tried to flee. We didn't know what had happened to Cloud, then. No one really knew what happened to the Bastion until much later, when even more worlds had been overrun and devastated. Cid had been on another ship and shortly after meeting Aerith, Squall and I, he found a job as a gummi mechanic there, his life falling into order unlike many of the victims of the Heartless.

I became a ninja soon after that. Aerith, though her suffering was no secret, did her best to take care of me, and unfortunately, Squall helped her, too. His dislike of caring for a little brat like I was clear, but over time he seemed to accept the fact that I was his shadow and was going nowhere.

Slowly, I fell in love with the man known as silence. Of course, I never said anything. As it is, Squall still thinks of me as an insolent little child. He's eight years my senior – and nothing can change the fact that he hates me.

A year ago, Cloud returned. Though I'm sure he told Aerith his entire story, I remain in the dark, as does probably Squall. But as much as I love to get on his nerves, I would never press him for what happened. I'm not too sure that I want to know.

As for our Heartless problem…it still exists. Also a year ago, a fourteen-year-old child named Sora popped into our Traverse Town, bearing a mythical item that, according to Squall and Aerith, was known as the Keyblade, and would aid in ending the Heartless forever. He traveled around the Kingdom, occasionally dropping by us for advice and help, culminating in locking all the doors of every world, and ebbing the flow of monsters.

But it wasn't enough, it seems. From what I heard, he was forced to lock his best friend away in the world of Heartless, behind a closed door that could never be opened; he was parted from his other best friend, the young woman known as Kairi – a princess of Heart – and he was thrown into a world with a talking duck and an imbecile dog. There is more to be done, more to be finished, but apparently Sora didn't complete what was supposed to be completed. Something that was supposed to happen didn't, and the Heartless returned, though not as powerful as before.

As for us, we have waited here in Traverse Town, patiently. Before Sora closed the Door, we returned from the Hollow Bastion, unable to stay where painful memories stained.

_{tbc}_

**[a.n.] **Well, this concludes chapter I! Twelve pages, a good 4, 962 words, and some really serious writing done until 1:40 in the morning, and I have one pretty good chapter. Please, please review for me! I put my heart and soul into this; don't let me down, people. See you around. **[araclyzm]**


	3. To Whisper to Skies

**A Dream's End**

**[a.n.]** Alright, if anyone needs to know, I have quite a bit to say before you read my little chappie two. Here goes:

AHHH!!!! AND NIINII RETURNS!!!!!! _--Glomps her until she dies--_

Edited the first chapter like three times, couldn't get the forking italics to work correctly, but whatever, so the paragraph before the reverie and the paragraph right after it are supposed to be italics; please 'member that when reading Chapter I, or when referring my story to others. Also, I changed hardly-noticeable mistakes in the time period between the Bastion's downfall to the Heartless and the present in my story. If any of you remember, Leon mentioned the Bastion being invaded as happening 'nine years ago'. So, as the events of Kingdom Hearts happened a year ago, that means, to Yuffie and the others in my story, the Bastion fell ten years ago – meaning Yuffie was nine years old, Aerith was thirteen, and Squall and Cloud were seventeen. I fixed it in Chapter I; if you happen to see it, then there ya go.

To my beloved readers: SHOULD I WRITE ANOTHER CHAPTER TO "HAVE YOU EVER"???????

ANSWER MEEEEEEEEE!!!

My revvies: Lithe, Pingpong867, Annjirika, Aniiston, Lvkishugs (oh, you really like it? I'm glad you do! Not many like my work. I'm a novice compared to some novelists that I know. ), Rednight-rider – I'm glad you liked the chapter! Now here's another for your Turkish Delight… **[araclyzm]**

**To Whisper to Skies **

**p.o.v. Yuffie**

Despite the poor hospitality shown by the waitress (who later I would learn was named "Lilee"), my waffles were absolutely delectable. I was the first to finish, leaning back in my chair and relishing the goodness of waffles. Whoever created them, I must give you credit, for you've created one of the greatest things in notable history.

I sneaked a sideways glance at Squall. He really has changed so much since we left. He used to be much more free, much more kind. Sure, he most definitely had a serious persona then, but it intensified tenfold when we came to Traverse Town and began to relive life. Squall never bothered to tell anyone how much the defeat of the Bastion affected him, but I had a clue; Cloud's disappearance for nine years plus the loss of his home and probably the only person Squall had ever loved caused him to think differently about life.

I can't say I disagree with him. Despite my ever-consistent optimism, I never thought of anything the same way. No one did. The Heartless destroyed us in more than one way on that day in the Bastion.

Soon after breakfast, Aerith pulled me aside, wanting a quick word with me before she went to spend time with her dearly loved Cloud.

"Yuffie…I want you to do me a favor," the flower girl said as soon as Squall and Cloud had left us alone. I stared at her, my expression telling her to continue. "I'm going to give you something to read later and I want you to think about it, okay?"

"What are you going to give me?" I asked her, confusion obvious on my face.

She shook her head. "Please, just do this one thing for me. Just read it and tell me what you think, alright?"

I looked at her then in my strange way that meant I understood, but I didn't know why. "Okay…sure. Fine. When shall I receive this 'thing'?"

"I'll give it to you by tonight," Aerith exhaled, relieved. "Thank you, Yuffie. And remember, read it and tell me what you think."

"Yes, Aerith, I heard you the first time." I smiled, still unsure. "But okay." I started walking away. "See you."

Aerith waved and ran over to Cloud some feet away. I didn't see Squall, but at the moment I didn't truly care where he was.

I would have loved to bask in the sunlight, or spend time lazily under the drawling rays for the rest of my day. But there is no sun to shine or rather to speak of in Traverse Town; it is a world of eternal nighttime. When I spoke of this town as 'dismal', I meant it. So many people who have fled from their worlds besieged with Heartless have come to this place, which was once just as filled with Heartless as the others. Their pasts were their own businesses, and to ask about it was as bad as cursing their name. Their pain reflected the attitude of the town: indifference and silenced ache.

Of course, our town was the first place Sora had come to, and with the help of us as well as others we fought to keep the Heartless at least out of the First District. All but the stoutest hearted turned away from the challenge of going beyond the tiny square that was the First District. There were very few of those. But those few traveled in packs to the closest locations, like the few stores near the door between the First and Second District, and the Hotel.

Then Sora sealed the keyhole and we were soon able to venture far past just the beginning of the Second District. But how did I get from why the sun doesn't shine in Traverse Town to Sora's achievements? Really, I do think my mind wanders way too much.

Stopping with that thought, I scanned my surroundings. I was standing in the now-busy Second District Square, beside the tiny fountain. Around me, a few children played, their innocence almost laughable.

Smiling, I muttered, "I have the attention span equal to that of a walnut."

Someone giggled.

I looked towards the source.

"Saeta," I said, my smile growing. "And just what are _you_ laughing at, ya little runt?"

The six-year-old Saeta grinned, showing several missing baby teeth. The girl who I met once at this very spot was wearing schoolgirl-like apparel, her long amber hair held into a ponytail with a red silk ribbon. In her chubby little hands she held a brown paper bag.

"Good morning, Yuffie," Saeta greeted, curtsying slightly, her big green eyes shining with glee. "How are you today?"

I smirked. "Nuh-uh, don't you get that polite tone with me." I winked. "I'm just fine, thanks. And yourself, young'n?"

"Great! I'm going to school now," Saeta answered delightfully, pointing towards the Gizmo Shop. I almost forgot that it served as a school as well as its name. "I can't wait to go! My friend Jiji said it's a lot of fun."

I looked up at the gizmo shop, reminiscing on my own days in school. I first began going when I was only four, at my mother's kind insistence. It was then that I met an eight-year-old girl named Aerith Gainsborough, who I immediately grew close to.

The school I went to was not just a place to gain an education with mathematics, reading, and writing. My father made sure that I learned every language they could stuff into my head plus more; every little tidbit of information that they could come up with was to be taught to me. Of course, even at that young age, I was easily distracted by other things, not truly caring about school, and didn't learn as much as I was supposed to. I was also taught the ways of the shinobi, completing my training only after I came to Traverse Town.

Snapping back to the present reality, I looked down at the little Saeta, ruffling up her pretty hair.

"I suppose you'll have fun, little one," I whispered, bending down and handing her a small bit of munny. "Promise me not to get into trouble though."

Saeta accepted the money with a surprised but appreciative face. "Yes, Yuffie, I promise! Thank you!" With that, she turned and ran towards the gizmo shop as the bells began to chime.

Watching Saeta run toward the Gizmo Shop with such childlike eagerness almost made me laugh. But as soon as I made sure she was inside the large shop, I went through the hotel to the back alley. At least maybe I would find something else to do besides think – meaning train – in the Waterway.

Normally, on days – or should I say nights – like today (tonight – but I'll just say days for days and nights for nights), you'd expect everyone to be outside. With the stars shining brightly enough to be considered a sun, and the artificial lighting coming from the lampposts being just as brilliant, it would resemble something of a nice day. The usual dark sky had brightened with the stars' shine, which, while not uncommon, served as a change from the regular bleakness, and a light breeze had picked up, coaxing in some clouds.

Then again, Squall Leonhart wasn't like everyone. As I've said before, the events from Hollow Bastion changed him. He was completely unpredictable at times – and at others I could map out his thinking like I would my own. So when I predicted that on such a nice day he would be inside the grimy waterway, I wasn't surprised to find that he was.

And, normally, I wouldn't have wanted to be in the waterway at the same time he was – partly because there were times when I just couldn't hold down my thoughts-leading-to-blushes, and partly because, whenever I was around him, I made a horrible fool of myself. You'll see what I mean in a minute.

Wading into the water and through the iron gates, I heard the ever-so-familiar swishing of a sword as it lacerated the air to destroy a foe none but the wielder of the blade could see before I even entered the cave. Slinking delicately toward his unguarded back, a small smirk crossed my face as I wondered how I should surprise him this time.

The surprise was on me, however, when he turned around, that smooth, aloof-like quality painting his features.

"Didn't even try this time, did you?" he said evenly. I must have looked perplexed, but all the more almost amazed, because his eyebrow arched in a familiar manner and he swung the gunblade up to his shoulders. "My hearing's much better than you think, Yuf."

I noticed he'd let loose a slight aggravated tone, and I smirked, pulling myself out of the water to walk daintily over to the dry stones.

"Oh, yes, I know," I said, allowing a teasing mockery to attend my casual voice, "But isn't a swordsman only supposed to depend on his sight and naught much else?" If this didn't sound like something I'd say, don't hold your breath; I'd heard it quoted from Cloud a day ago.

This, however, I did not convey to Squall, but he didn't seem astonished that I'd said it, either.

"Where'd you hear that from? Blondie?" he said after a moment. "A swordsman uses not just his eyes, but his ears as well. Lose one, and you have the other. Lose one, and you don't happen to be affiliated with that second sense, then you're as sure as dead." He nodded at my dripping physique. "Didn't bother entering through Merlin's, huh?"

That infuriating blush crept up on my neck and I grunted with something bordering amusement – amusement that Squall was so quick to change the subject – and embarrassment.

"Well unlike some, I choose the hard labor of swimming," I announced, forcing a grand tenor into my voice.

Squall smirked. "Swimming through a dank and musty cavern filled with muddy green water and decaying insects is certainly considered hard labor," he answered agreeably, pulling his gunblade from his shoulders in an action that presumed he would be continuing in his training.

The burning blush on my neck dripped toward my cheeks. "Well it's better than jumping across an even bigger body of muddy green water filled with even more decaying insects via demented stones that are hell bent on throwing you into said water!" I retorted quickly, trying to squeeze some of the icky – my word, and yes, I admit the stuff was disgusting – water out of my shirt by pulling at the bottom and wringing the cloth.

His only response was to give me a weird look suggesting something along the lines of, 'Sure. Right. Whatever you say,' before he turned his back on me and began thrusting his sword into the hearts of invisible enemies. Glaring at the man through the hair now plastered to my forehead, I flicked the bangs out of my eyes and started to stroll toward him.

Of course, that was the second he chose to swing around, scaring me half to death, thus leading me to fall flat on my butt.

Did I mention that the cobblestone floor was _very_ slippery?

I must have banged my head hard, because, in addition to the ache pounding at my brain, three pairs of Squalls were bending over me, a mask of amusement hiding what I couldn't tell was worry. My brain, of course, conveyed me as in heaven, and therefore, the first stupid thing to pop out of my mouth was:

"Uh…"

Yes. Very smart, right?

"Are you sure you're a ninja?" Squall asked with an insincere visage of bafflement. And there was that amusement factor, too.

I glowered, sitting up slowly as I tried to stop the visions. "Shut up," I mumbled. Wasn't I in a perfect position right then? I'd just tripped, hit my head hard, was dripping from the murky olive water, and for some reason Squall was now the one with the upper hand. Translation: there I go again.

So what do I do so as not to make myself even _more_ of a fool?

I retaliate, and that's when my tongue goes out of control.

"Squall," I drawled, dragging the single syllable out just to vex the guy, "It's your fault I'm in this position. Your idiotic insinuation of a battle move could have toppled any shinobi, not just me." That last word escaped as more of a hiss rather than a spoken thing.

And, as sure as the day isn't night, his automatic response was, "Leon."

I swear, the guy gets faster every day. It's like he's some kind of robot mechanically programmed to react whenever I say 'Squall'.

"And Yuffie?" He'd lost his sense of humor by now, staring blankly at me with not a look of stupidity, but a look of quiet displeasure that saw arguing with me as a total waste of his time. "It's called training, not an 'idiotic insinuation of a battle move'. And you roving around is absolutely no help at all." Then, shouldering his blade one last time, he added that final sentence that never failed to make my wonder yet again why I happened to love him. "The Heartless could be attacking at any minute, and training is a virtue." The tone in his voice told me I should have known that.

He didn't say more – he didn't have to, as that last phrase usually signaled the end of our conversations – and didn't take his time in leaving, exiting through the stairs to Merlin's hut. I heard the humming noise of the lift as it brought the soldier to the Magician's Study.

"Ah yes," I mumbled to myself – then again, who else would I mumble it to? – as I leaned against the pebbly wall and sunk slowly to the ground, "once again, I ruin any chances of friendship."

Squall Leonhart wasn't necessarily _not_ my friend. He wasn't my enemy, of course, and I trusted him far more than he trusted me, and yes, I knew just about everything that I could tease out of him. But our relationship wasn't exactly friendly. We were more of acquaintances – acquaintances that knew more about each other than strangers, but not enough as friends.

When I was certain that I had fallen in love with him, I'd begun trying, however discreetly, to advance our relationship to something more 'mature'. Then again, I'm a ninja, not a miracle worker.

Pulling five stars from the leather pouch that hung on the belt loop of my shorts, I pulled myself to my feet and walked a few paces so that I was standing before the sun mural on the other side of the Waterway. Concentrating on the very center of the sun, I closed my eyes and slunk low, keeping a mental image of the mural in my mind. Then, brandishing two of the five stars, I aimed them carefully and threw them.

Hearing a low _thud_, I opened my eyes again and saw, to my smug amazement, that not only had the stars hit the very center of the painting, but were exactly next to each other, one of both their points stuck to the wall.

Smiling slightly, I repeated the same actions, this time with the other three stars, happy to have the same result. Wading into the water to retrieve my throwing stars and then back, I slid to the floor again, my back to the wall. Casting a wandering gaze around the cavern, I felt a small knot form in my stomach. It wasn't from fear, though, because I'd long ago ridden myself of any fears that I wasn't fond of. Being a proud ninja, I couldn't very well be afraid of petty things like the dark and being alone. What I did fear was harm to my friend, and being caged. But that's not of any real relevance, huh?

Sighing, I looked once again around the cave. It looked lonely. That's what made that knot.

_Sepulchral_, I thought, recalling a word Squall mentioned once. _Like a single great building that had been long abandoned by its gigantic owners._

_Like myself, too_, my thoughts added hastily, as though not wanting to leave that particular idea out. I grunted, having been half expecting my brain to supply the additional words. It was just like me to pity myself, even when my general guise disallowed it.

Exhaling deeply, I finally stood, brushing at my shorts. Looking from the steps leading up to the Mystical House to the dark water leading to the Alleyway, I weighed the possibilities.

Just when I was thinking of paying Merlin another visit, I thought of something else, and left through the water.

.

__

Sitting on the balcony of the room she shared with Cloud, Aerith gazed almost longingly at the sky. Her tan face was virtually blank, save that shine of longing, her pale pink lips set in a small frown of contemplation, her eyebrows furrowed as she thought.

Aerith Gainsborough was a gentle young woman who was genuinely concerned with everyone's welfare, especially her friends'. It was a fault in some cases, where some would mistake her compassion for intrusiveness. But she was a considerate medicine woman and active helper in everything that called for her occupation. Not only that, she was a flower girl.

Even she wasn't sure what that meant.

Suppressing the smile of amusement that touched her thinking pose, Aerith had to admit that it was kind of funny to think of herself as a flower girl and not even know what her profession called for. Whenever she heard the term 'flower girl' she immediately thought of gardens and weddings.

Not unexpected when coming from her.

A general romantic and worrywart, they used to call her. That visage slowly became one of patience and empathy throughout the years.

At the moment, however, her visage – nix the suppressed smile – suggested that her mind was on other things. Yuffie, for the most part. And what was really bothering her was what she'd seen two nights before, atop the Gizmo Shop, where she knew for a fact Yuffie would be, avoiding a huge birthday bash for one of Traverse Town's more popular residents…__

_The party was being held in the Third District, as was usual for any kind of large parties. A silk tent thin enough to see the night sky covered a considerable distance, with the imminent expectance of rain having been the cause for the tent in the first place. Three long tables of polished mahogany wood were lined against three sides of the tent, all piled high with food and drink enough to feed the entire town at least three times – which was good, considering the entire town had turned out for the celebration. Lights glittered like firelight, on and off and this color and that one._

_It gave her a headache._

_Aerith had never been one for parties, but the celebrant himself had requested her presence at the gala. Scolding herself several times for even thinking of saying no or even lying, she had agreed to go, asking if her friends would be able to attend as well._

_All four of them turned down the request with mutual contempt and dislike written on their faces._

_However, with much of her pleading, they had no choice but to give in, though Cid put his foot down hard in saying that he had other things to be doing, other things that included only him and his gummi repair shop. Aerith let him alone – thus earning disapproving hisses from Yuffie, and almost annoyed looks from Cloud and Leon. _

_Aerith loved them all because they put up with her. But she really hadn't wanted to go to the occasion alone._

_Now, however, with the entire town cramped under the tent, milling around the refreshments and dancing way too close for her taste, Aerith found even she – she, with all of her understanding and fortitude – could not stand the thundering lights and sound any more._

_Hoping to seek out her friends so maybe they could leave – they'd promised to come and they did, so now they were taking an early departure – she tried to get out of her seat, only to start being knocked about by the hundreds of people moving around. _

_"Excuse me," "Pardon me," "Now really," was all that seemed to escape her mouth as she moved painstakingly through the crowds and finally into the fresh air. The music still rumbled on, but at least now she could breathe. _

_She stood on her toes, trying to see if Cloud, Yuffie, or Leon were somewhere near the entrance, which was more likely than them being anywhere inside. _

_Cloud was the first one she saw. Before they'd arrived for the festivities, they'd said all four of them would stick together like glue._

_Then again, they hadn't realized all of Traverse would be attending. _

_They were easily shaken apart and Aerith had lost track of the other three in no time. Now, however, she realized that he'd either been keeping an eye on her or had just the same intentions as she, for he emerged from the tent soon after she did._

_She tried to speak over the deafening noise, but her voice was lost. Cloud saw her trying, however, and motioned with a quiet hand toward the First District. Aerith quickly obliged, skipping toward the First District/Third District door with Cloud not far behind. Once in the near-empty district (near-empty meaning Cid in the Accessory Shop, and Huey, Dewey, and Luey asleep in their apartments above the Item Shop), Aerith pulled Cloud toward the Item Synthesis Shop, sparing a quick glance at the clock hung on the far wall. _

_"Midnight," she murmured, looking over at Cloud. "Have you seen Yuffie or Leon?" _

_Cloud shook his golden mane. "Not since we arrived. I was looking for them, but I only found you." He rubbed his temple. "But for once Aerith, I really have to tell ya…"_

_Aerith shook her head quickly. "No need; we're not going back. Might as well get to bed."_

_"As if we could, with that racket. We'll hear it even from the Second District." _

_Aerith smiled slightly. "You sound like Cid."_

_Cloud had the grace to look affronted. Or mock-affronted, considering the tone of voice he used next. "You dare compare me to that old man?" _

_Aerith giggled a little. "You go back to the Hotel, Cloud," she said, leaving the store with Cloud in tow. "I'll go find Leon and Yuffie-"_

_"And promise never to make us go to another party again?" Cloud finished with a manner that was almost pleading, followed by a yawn that indicated he was tired._

_Aerith shook her head, but smiled. "And make sure they don't want to give me away."_

_"I'd never let them," Cloud muttered, kissing her a soft goodnight before leaving her to go to the Hotel. _

_Her smile wider and her spirit higher, she turned back to the First District/Third District door, re-entered the third district, and immediately wished she hadn't as the deafening music exploded into her ears and the square, most likely disturbing, if even for a millisecond, the sleeping ducklings. _

_She shut the two doors quickly, retreating back into the First District. _No_, she thought quickly, looking around the empty region of Traverse, _they wouldn't be there.__

Maybe they went back to the Hotel_, her mind provided hopefully. Thinking this the most plausible, she walked across the cobblestones, her boots making a quiet clickety-clack noise that sounded much louder than it actually was. Up the steps and through to the Second District; the Hotel lay at her right. She made for it at once, noting with displeasure that the sound of that bothersome gathering in the Third District resonated even there. _

_The Hotel manager wasn't there, as was expected, but she didn't need him in the first place, and preferred to go about her business without him at all. Shoving her metal key into its lock, she pushed the door quietly open and looked around, half expecting to see Yuffie raiding her closet for a t-shirt or lost munny or something else rather unimportant that Yuffie would have the mind to search for. It gave her an excuse to come into Aerith and Cloud's room now and again simply so she could get away from the dull monotony – or so she dubbed it – of her own room._

_But Yuffie wasn't there – though Cloud was, and he was half asleep on the bed – and when she checked the room Yuffie and Leon shared – which was connected to hers – she found that neither of them were there, either._

_Looking at the clock on the wall again, Aerith bit her lip, a sign to anyone that she was getting worried. Where were they? _

_Quietly closing the connecting door to Leon and Yuffie's room, she exited her own room through the balcony after making sure her door was shut and locked tight. Falling gracefully on her feet, she glanced down the Alleyway, but the iron gates were shut. If Yuffie and/or Leon were there, then they would be open, because you couldn't open them from the inside. _

_She left the Hotel again, via Leon and Yuffie's room this time, and walked with a measured step among the shadows of the district, quiet eyes searching. Scanning all of Yuffie's favorite haunts, her eyes landed on the Gizmo Shop and she wondered why she hadn't thought of the place first. She looked straight at the roof and there, hidden, but barely, by the shadows, sat Yuffie, her eyes glued to the sky. It was such an unlikely pose for the ninja that Aerith had to do a double take to make sure she saw what she was seeing. But it was definitely Yuffie there up on the roof. As Aerith watched, she opened her mouth. _

_At that distance, Aerith didn't hear what she said, but the expressions on her face showed that she was receiving an answer. Unless Yuffie was insane, Aerith was willing to bet all her munny – and her friendship with Yuffie – that Leon was up there with her. _

_Quickening her pace, she entered the Gizmo Shop, none too astonished that it wasn't locked, went through the back, and climbed slowly up the ladder. Recent renovations with the Gizmo Shop – renovations including the school that the Shop now served as – had prompted the managers to pile the empty rooms with boxes of school supplies, books, and items. But being as their only empty room was the main shop, the second floor, and the room with the ladder, they also stacked the roof with many boxes. _

_Upon reaching the top, Aerith heard speaking. Having never been one to eavesdrop, Aerith didn't want to start now. But she didn't want to leave unless she was absolutely sure Yuffie and Leon were both okay and weren't mad at her, and the moment didn't seem right to suddenly walk in and interrupt. She spotted a convenient spot behind a pile of packages and slipped behind it. Her vision was obscured, so she knew they couldn't see her at least, and she had to strain her ears to hear._

_What she heard made her freeze. _

_"_Leon_, Yuffie, my name is Leon," said the voice of Leon. "I really wish you would get it right."_

_When Yuffie responded, there was a grin in her voice, and she was using that Genie-of-the-lamp kind of character most likely meant to mock Leon. "Truly Squall? Is that what you wish?"_

_There was a low growl, probably from Leon, before he said, "Forget it."_

_"Ah, Squallie, Squallie, Squallie, Squallie…"_

_Their conversation continued in an almost civilized manner. This being virtually impossible considering Leon and Yuffie's none-too-hidden cool endurance of the other, Aerith could hardly suppress a gasp. _

_Tuning herself out of as much of the exchange as possible, she almost didn't have time to shift her position when she heard Leon's loud boots coming toward the ladder, the signal that he was leaving. Aerith waiting until she could no longer hear him, before stepping out from behind the boxes._

_Opening her mouth to speak, Yuffie stood, cutting her off._

_"If there is anything up there, besides stars and skies," she whisperingly began, her voice wavering but assured, "then I wonder if you'll listen to me." Her eyes belonged to the stars by now, and she seemed not to notice Aerith's presence. That struck Aerith as saying something, since Yuffie was a ninja and trained to hear even Aerith's quiet footfalls. Then she began to wonder if Yuffie knew that she'd overheard some of her words with Squall._

_Before Aerith could begin to question anything else, Yuffie spoke again. _

_"Do you enjoy tormenting me?" Her voice had turned bitter. "The one thing I can't have… the one thing you won't give me… I have no choice in the matter, do I?" She emitted a sigh, her face sweeping the ground below. A pang of panic hit Aerith, but Yuffie didn't jump, though she leaned on the right hand pillar sheathed in darkness, still ignoring Aerith._

_"People call me selfish. They call me immature, childish, naïve. But no one gives a damn about what I think or what I say. So here's the only thing I'll ever ask of you: I want to be loved."_

After that, Aerith couldn't think to overhear anything else Yuffie might slip out, so she quietly stamped her feet to signify her walk, and pretended that she had just arrived. Aerith was obviously a very good actress because, despite raging internal protests, she was able to convince Yuffie she'd just come up to see if she wanted to go to sleep instead of back to the party and that she'd heard nothing. If Yuffie knew, she showed no sign of it, and gratefully obliged in going to bed.

But her words echoed through Aerith's mind all night. She knew exactly what Yuffie had meant when she asked the sky to be loved. For there was only one thing she never told Aerith that was so obvious that she didn't have to.

And so the next day, Aerith asked around the town for a specific book until a certain helpful citizen pointed her in Merlin's direction. After requesting the wizard's help, he promised to look for it in his cluttered study, for he knew it was there somewhere. He'd found it last night, which was why Aerith and Yuffie went to retrieve it this morning.

And with a plan slowly forming in her mind, Aerith rose to her feet, collecting the papers piled neatly on the table that took up a corner of the balcony. It was the revision of _Romeo and Juliet_ that she'd taken the day to write in a way Yuffie would understand, while Cloud was helping Cid at the Accessory Shop. Where Yuffie and Leon spent their day wasn't much of a mystery, but Aerith didn't need to know.

Placing a paperclip on the sheets of paper, she went back inside the Red Room, put the stack on the table near the wall, and left the room for her shift at the Infirmary.

.

If Traverse Town wasn't peaceful enough, the most peaceful place _in_ it was the Dalmatian's House. When the Heartless came to Traverse, they left the pup-filled place alone. Pongo and Perdita often allowed visitors to come inside, most especially since Sora retrieve all ninety-nine puppies. My personal favorite was a tiny pup with a black patch over her left eye. She was shy, unlike her brothers and sisters, which for some reason made me like her all the more. Often I would sit in the anteroom with little Patch in my lap, just talking to her and pretending she could hear.

It was the place I chose to be after my encounter with Squall in the Waterway. Even when I knew that I had friends like Aerith, Cloud, Cci, and sometimes even Saeta to talk to about just anything, it was as if Patch was the only one I could really speak to and not expect anything back, no criticism, no scolding, just her sweet little love. No one could truly understand how much talking to the little pup meant to me. Not even Aerith, I'm sorry to admit.

"So, Patch," I began, petting her head. She looked up at me and seemed to smile as she barked once in hello. "I'm sure your day was fine, huh? Is Mr. Lucas taking good care of you and your family?" Mr. Lucas was the appointed inhabitant of the Third District to watch over the family of Dalmatians, even if they were pretty capable of taking care of themselves.

Patch responded with another bark and settled herself in my lap. I looked absently down at her.

"Good, I hoped as much. Any sign of trouble, and you let me know, hear?" The pup stirred slightly, but didn't move anymore, though I felt the soft rise and fall of her breathing against my hands that lay on her back. Now was the perfect time to talk to my little friend. With one last look around the room, and seeing that only Pongo and Perdita lay on one another in a far corner of the room, I began.

"Aerith woke me up again…"

_{tbc}_

**[a.n]** Note to all: forgive me for the two-day delay. On Saturday, I was at a block party with my bf on her street, 114th. Then on Sunday I went to Dorney Park! And I think it's safe to assume by now that I've become a bit of a daredevil: NO ROLLERCOASTER CAN TAKE ME!! All DAY on Sunday I was upside down on just every single ride I could get to. Including one that went like fifty stories in the air and then dropped you. The only thing I didn't get done was a caricature. Yep. Only put-down of the day, lest you include being stuck with an old meanie for the afternoon.

Monday…well…I was busy writing the four-and-a-quarter length reverie of this fourteen page, 5, 575-word chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it.

And I do believe Aniiston has gone as cuckoo as Lingle. Three cheers for her!

(Those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, don't bother asking.)

=) Questions? Comments? Then review and set your mind at ease. **[araclyzm]**


	4. To Dream the Untold

**A Dream's End**

**[a.n.] **Aniiston, you're a LIFESAVER! Those tips on Yuffie's personality help me more than anything else. Huggleshuggleshuggles Wanna know a secret all? I actually based my Yuffie on the brief instances of Yuffie-ness that I saw in KH, with a pinch of my own ideas plus a bit of Deplora's. I adore Deplora's Squiffies; they are absolutely delectable. Props for Miss Deplora!!! Muahah.

Luvkishugs: To 'most', my friend? Ah, how much of a dream you speak. I'm happy that you like it, however. You're kind words are music to my ears. Please, if you have any suggestions at all, don't hesitate to let me know.

Astaldothlwen: As a matter of fact, Yuffie DID read it in a book, one called 'Cid's Colorful Array of Wordings', lala! And of course, being the little itch that she is, she just had to throw it in Squall's face. Your assumptions aren't too far from the line, either, and with Anii's helpful take on Yuffie, there's sure to be some hilarity involving one ticked-off Yuffie and one hell of an argument.

Also, forgive me if you will for the delay _again_. I've got to study over the summer, much as I hate it. And it keeps getting in my way. Hopefully this chapter will make up for the week missed? And another soon to come, la!

Now on with the show! **[araclyzm]**

**To Dream the Untold **

****

**p.o.v. Yuffie **

_The sun slowly began to sink below the horizon, streaking the sky with stunning carnation pinks, blaze golds, fiery oranges, melting reds, and soft purplish-blues. Cottony pearl clouds sailed across the eternal sea of sky, reflected in the glassy surface of the many windows of a magnificent castle standing so lonely amidst endless gardens and waterfalls of crystal falling up. _

_But the castle was…broken, somehow, no longer a beautiful sight to see. A young girl was looking out of the topmost window of the castle. She looked as broken and lost as the castle itself, her innocence gone just as the castle's beauty had faded away. _

_An older version of the young girl looked up from the icy landings of artificial water. Water that fell up into an endless sky. _

_What was wrong with the child? The older girl did wonder. Yet she knew the castle was dismal…abandoned and dismayed. Nobody has lived there. No one ever will again. It died, along with all those who have lived there. Everything died. Perhaps that was why the watching child cried. Watched and cried._

"Yuffie!"

My eyes fluttered open, to be met unpleasantly with a light so bright that I thought some sun was actually shining through the dark breadth that was supposed to be the sky of Traverse Town.

And just when I thought that maybe this miracle was possible, the light clicked off and Aerith stood over me, looking relieved.

"What…?" I sat up, rubbing furiously at my eyes in a vain effort to get rid of the blinking colorful dots. "Oh…gawd, Aerith, wanna make it just a little bit brighter!? Maybe you'll actually succeed in _blinding_ me next time!"

Aerith stood back, smiling. "Yep, you're perfectly fine."

I glared irreverently, biting back the urge to say something that Cid would have been proud of. "What's with the light?"

Aerith clicked her pocket flashlight on and off in response, that smile still on her face as she stuffed it in her purse. "Trying to wake you up. You have no idea where you are, do you?"

I blinked once, then twice, and took in my surroundings with a glance that almost went unnoticed. When had I fallen asleep? I looked down at my lap, where I was sure Patch had lain napping minutes before. But she wasn't there anymore. What was probably disturbing was that, as I had been lying reclined on the couch of the anteroom, my and Aerith's presence were the only ones in the room.

"Where're the Dalmatians?" I blurted out, feeling slow and bemused. "And Pongo and Perdita?" I stumbled to my feet, rubbing my head as the familiar numb pangs of a headache began to make themselves known. "How long was I out?"

Aerith giggled, which I was now finding to be a little more than just bothersome. "Pongo, Perdita, and that adorable little one you call Patch went with Charlie to the kitchen when I arrived half an hour ago." It took me a second to remember that Charlie was Mr. Lucas's first name.

"And how long was I asleep?" I repeated with a truly wondering tone. I didn't remember when it was exactly that I'd come to the Dalmatian's, though I did remember it was just after I encountered Squall in the Waterway. Patch had definitely been asleep in my lap when I explained my day. And, vehemently forgetting the fact that three clocks adorned the anteroom walls, I hadn't been paying attention to the time when I fell asleep.

"Not a clue, Yuf," Aerith answered pleasantly. "But it _has_ been about seven hours since I last saw you." She gently picked up her arm and showed me her watch. "See? Nearly eight."

Feeling the deadened signs of an oncoming headache fade to the dark recesses of my mind, I gave the watch a fleeting look before pushing her wrist away from my nose and stretching, cracking three places at once. Turning a cartwheel in the large foyer to see if my limbs were in working order, I jumped into another puffy chair and grinned a little impishly at the flower girl.

"Well, why did you come looking for me then? And how'd you know I was here?" I relaxed with my legs hanging over the arm of the winged chair, my hands clasped behind my head with my torso leaning not-too-elegantly on the other arm. It was the pose of someone completely and one hundred percent undisturbed with the circumstances of the world.

Yeah. As if.

Aerith's smile stayed pasted to her face even with my impolite rash of questions. She didn't seem the least bit phased, which I found slightly disturbing because it proclaimed her eternal patience, as her actions often did. Something I also found to be disturbing because it couldn't be possible.

"I figured you'd be here," she said lightly, answering the second question first. "Remember the favor I asked of you this morning? I'll be needing you to take up on that offer now." She cocked her head to the side slowly, her features much softer than they usually were.

I eyed her from a sidelong view, my face towards the door leading out of the house. "I didn't 'offer' anything, Aerith Gainsborough," I said coolly, untangling my clasped hands and fingering a plastic bracelet I didn't remember putting on, the back of my mind stating that I didn't _wear_ jewelry in the first place. "And yes, I _do_ remember the favor you 'asked of me' this morning." I smirked, but Aerith's serene look didn't waver.

"Good." She motioned with one hand toward the door I was supposedly staring at, and it opened. Trying ineffectively to not look surprised, I faced the opened door entirely, the motion more or less meant to express my surprise, rather than to urge Aerith to continue. Which she did just then. "Come on then." I heard her walking toward me and she took my hands in her own. "We've got to go back to the Hotel." She pulled me to my feet again and I grudgingly decided I had no choice but to go. There was nothing for me to do in the Dalmatians' House, and if I didn't like what Aerith was going to make me do, then I could just as easily sneak away somewhere.

Pulling my hand from her grip-of-doom as I so dubbed it, I fell in pace a few steps behind her, with one or two glances from her to make sure I wasn't going anywhere, as I was known to do. Ignoring the mistrustfulness that came with the glances, I looked around the nearly empty Second District, skipping lightly and wondering where everyone went so early in the evening.

But that particularly unimportant subject wasn't really plaguing my brain. I was thinking more of the gleaming castle and the abandoned grounds, with the dead little girl staring out of the topmost window…

"Huh?" Caught again at my drifting thoughts, I looked at Aerith. She'd stopped short and was staring at me with mirth in her eyes. "You say something, Rith?"

Aerith giggled at my absentmindedness and overlooked her nickname. "I said, how are the Dalmatians doing?"

"Oh." I nodded, looking edgy and bouncing a little with my steps as the Hotel's front doors came into view. "They're fine, I guess." I shrugged a little. "I mean, I only saw Patch, Pongo, and Perdita, but it's safe to assume the lot of them are okay, right? Pongo and Perdita didn't seem worried and Mr. Lucas didn't go ballistic while we were there, did he?"

Aerith shook her head with silent laughter, pushing open the Hotel doors and leading the way to her Red Room. Once there, I lazily flopped belly up onto her perfectly made bed as she went over to the desk that sat in the corner near the door to my own room, dropping her purse on a chair in the process. When she returned, I was fiddling nonchalantly with a thread sticking up from the comforter on the bed, my head facing the hallway door so I could successfully pick at the said thread.

"Here." Aerith stood above me, holding a stack of papers held together by a paperclip. I sat up and crossed my legs Indian style as she dropped the stack in my lap with a surprisingly heavy thump on my knees. I gasped loudly and muttered something rude, to be rewarded with a nearly hidden look of disapproval on Aerith's part.

"Good gawd, Rith, what's this? Bricks made into a paper?" I asked, knowing how lame the comment sounded but forgetting it forcefully as I studied the pile of documents. There were around a hundred or two hundred pages, each with minute typewriting from top to bottom, including several hand-written footnotes and comments in Aerith's petite, orderly script. The writing itself, I noticed, was in screenplay form – a play meant for a theater.

Aerith smiled, sitting on the floor and looking up at me. "Actually, no." She flicked a tress of hair out of her face without actually meaning to or knowing she did so. "It's the re-written version of Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_."

I raised an eyebrow at that. _Romeo and Juliet_? Shakespeare again? "Dead guy, right?" I asked her, shuffling the papers purposely to pretend I was actually considering the texts. "About so high," I continued, raising my hand to a space a few inches above my head, "with a gray beard, black mustache, and a fetish for writing with words that nobody in the twenty-first century have any hope of understanding since they long ago deleted them from all understandable vocabulary?"

That comment drew another laugh from Aerith. "The one and the same," she answered smilingly. "And here," she picked up some more papers I'd had the grace – and the gall – to overlook before. This particular set was written in just Aerith's pretty handwriting rather than in the type from a typewriter or computer, and much unlike the heap in my lap, there were only around five or six sheets. She handed these to me in exchange for the overly large mound sitting uncomfortably and unwelcomingly on my knees. "This is the shorter version so that you may understand exactly what's going on."

"I have to understand it?" I asked with restrained anger that came from a part of my mind taking offense to the fact that Aerith _expected _me to do something without actually asking first. And when Miss Rith 'expected' me to do something, normally, it was something I probably wouldn't be caught dead doing, even though, normally, I usually wound up doing it anyway for the sake of my friendship with Aerith.

"What do I have to understand?" I continued.

Aerith's smile shrunk to a mysterious grin that was so unusual and so unexpected – and so _unlike_ my dear adoptive sister, Aerith – that I cringed in its wake.

"Ah-ah! No questions, Yuf," she replied with a shake of her head. "Just read it, please? And when you're finished, I want to know your exact thoughts on it." In saying that, she rose to her feet, taking the larger bundle of paper that was her revision of _Romeo and Juliet_ – according to her, anyway – and, pausing by the door to the hallway, she looked back at me and smiled another time. "Thank you, Yuffie." Again with that gentleness, good lord, it couldn't be possible. "I'll see you later." She left the room.

As soon as she vanished into the hallway and her light steps disappeared from my range of hearing, I let out a long imprisoned snort of amusement at her optimism that could have rivaled my own, stubbornness that I wouldn't do as she said, and resentment that I couldn't resist Rith's benignly manner and considerate character. Especially when she had to ask so 'nicely'.

_Hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it._

Sighing, I glanced unwillingly at the few papers Aerith requested I read. Much as I hated being told what to do – which was probably more than I hated my inability to tell Aerith no – I didn't really see what was wrong with just reading the stuff, save for the little issue being my own determinedness to _not_ do as I'm told, a factor that added to my immaturity.

Why couldn't I just throw a temper tantrum instead of let Aerith get the best of me _again_? With that thought in my head, I collected the sheets and left her room to go to my own. And was I crazy, or did these undeserving dead trees in my hand cling to a faint scent of Aerith's Breton lilac aroma?

Growling at my own insecurity considering Aerith's unknowing ability over me, I sprawled on my stomach comfortably, taking up all of the bed that I happened to share with Squall Leonhart, the bunch of papers – oh those galling things – in a semi-neat pile in front of me.

But once more, my head wasn't truly coming to focus on the task at hand. My brain was returning to that short-yet-not dream I'd had before. Of course I knew which castle it was – the Hollow Bastion. But the little girl staring down at me…I didn't know who she was. For some reason, she seemed familiar, and my first thought on that was that she was I as a child. That line of reasoning would explain why she was in the topmost window of the castle – I used to spend all my time staring out of that very window marveling at the beauty of the dawn and wondering what it would bring. But it didn't add up. The child at the window _wasn't _me, and, as recognizable as she seemed, I didn't know her, period.

I closed my eyes, attempting to remember how she appeared. She looked about six years old, maybe seven – whenever I met someone new, I always tried to decipher their age before actually asking. It's an unneeded habit, but eighty-five percent of the time I was correct in my guessing – and she had really, really dark, dark fire-black hair that fell far past her shoulders, with the most incredible blue-blue eyes set in tender, pale skin. Her face was as a fragile and docile as Rith's, but, unlike Rith, her sadness was etched deep into her features with a kind of wise-ness in the eyes that surpassed her years by far. It was as if she'd seen all too much of the world and knew everything there was to be known, but had a burning desire to _not_ be that catalyst of information.

Blinking uncharacteristically, I realized that I remembered more from this particular dream than others I've had over time. I didn't go out of my way to remember them and so it wasn't usual for me to do so – dreams weren't important, really. I mean, aren't they generally for the sake of giving the wakeful part of your mind something to do while the rest of you sleeps? But forgetting that, I sunk back into my thoughts.

With an unanticipated jolt, I realized that that little girl could be only one person. It wasn't me; that was for sure. It was…

_Bang._

"Great timing," I mumbled, looking up from the hole I'd stared into the comforter as I had thought. Squall edged into the room, carrying a medium-sized brown paper bag in the crook of his left arm, while the other hand tried grasping his Gunblade and his keys (one for the Hotel, one for the room, some for his gummi…you get the idea) at the same time.

I watched him struggle for a few seconds, watched him drop both his blade and his keys as a final resort, and watched as he closed the door and locked it with a satisfied-sounding _click_.

He turned to me, glaring as usual with the rest of his face as blank as a sheet of paper. Oy, now Aerith's got me using paper similes.

"Oh, don't worry about me, I didn't need any help at all," he grumbled rather loudly with his inimitable sarcasm as he set the paper bag, his keys, and the blade on the lone table in the middle of the room. He crossed the room to make sure the door between the Red Room and Green Room was shut and locked tight, and walked back to the table looking displeased.

"I didn't think ya did," I said in answer, adding a smirk to see if he would get more irritated with me. "I thought the great lion could handle himself."

He pretended to look contemplative at my response for a millisecond before retorting with even more cynicism, "True. Didn't need a mouse in my way, now did I?"

My cheeks flushed. A _mouse_? Was that the best he could come up with? Yet even as I thought this, I felt discomfited that he would sink so low as to call me a _mouse_, of all things. I could have taken it as a compliment – mice are nimble, quiet creatures, rather like a ninja – but I wasn't about to let him get the upper hand. Again.

"Aren't lions _afraid_ of mice, ya big dolt?" I whispered haughtily. "You would've dropped _everything_ and ran for cover if I tried to help ya, wouldn't ya?"

"How did we get from you not helping me to the Lion and the Mouse?" Squall asked, raising an eyebrow, not the least bit deterred by my quick counterattack on his well-known pride. He pulled another rather mangled brown bag from his jacket before removing the leather thing and clumsily draping it over the chair.

Taking a quick moment to think about the whole 'lion and mouse' metaphor I could get into with Squall as my audience, I decided I was too tired to start arguing with Squallie again anyway, and so let it drop. For now.

Instead, I nodded at the larger brown bag. "What's that?"

He glanced at me to see what I was referring to and said simply, with that irksome, careless air, "Dinner."

My eyes widened a little at that. Squallie brought me dinner?

"Squall, you feelin' okay?" He looked at me, his blank expression changing only the slightest bit to one of petty displeasure – the same look he'd given me a hundred times before.

"Leon, as I've said before," he ground out. "And it's _my_ dinner, not yours."

"Oh…" Well, then that changes things. Should've known 'Leon' wouldn't be _that_ kind. He _couldn't_ be that kind. But a low rumble from my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast.

Squall turned his face away from his Gunblade, which he'd been examining carefully. "Was that thunder?" he said uninterestedly.

I turned a glare on him. "No," I muttered, seething, my hands clutched over my midsection, adding with a whisper, "You moron."

A mockingly disappointed feature added to his unconcerned face. "Cid's teaching you new words, I see."

"Oh, shut up, you dolt. At least I _know_ some new words." In my brain, I added, _like 'idiotic insinuation', for instance,_ even though I knew I'd heard those words when Cloud and Cid had fought once, and knew even more how much of a weak retort it was.

Another loud rumble announced that I was still hungry, but I grit my teeth against it and clutched my stomach even more, watching Squall with silenced but obvious disgust as he continued to polish and probe his precious blade, having left the bag of dinner and the messed up bag alone.

At a third growl from my stomach – which I was firm in thinking it would not force me to break and ask Squall for food – said man finally looked up from the Gunblade and motioned with the hand not holding the blade but a rag toward the bag.

"If you're hungry, you better eat something."

My eyes narrowed dangerously at the smug look he got when another sound emitted from my abdomen as though to say 'gladly!', and proving to him that I would've jumped at the offer if I weren't so willful. "If I'm hungry, I would have said it, _Squall_," I proclaimed loudly.

"Leon," he answered, returning his stormy gaze to his weapon. "Well, if you don't want to eat the ramen noodles and rice and wanton and chicken and shrimp that _I_ have…then feel free to go to the café and get your own." Damn, he was doing that on purpose! I felt my mouth watering a little as he named the food that resided deliciously in the abandoned paper bag, save for the shrimp, which was at the top of my list of things to hate. But the idea that I hadn't thought to get my own food pushed itself to the front of my mind, as though some subconscious part of me was resolutely trying to point out that I was as brainless as I accused Squall of being.

I stood, both hands still clutched around my belly. "Fine, I think I will, thank-you very much." I wanted to add something else that would have sounded like, "Selfish little git," but the thought that maybe I still had a chance of staying in the Hotel room _and_ getting free food nagged me as much as the first thought about my stupidity.

Squall shrugged. "Sure. But you may want to wait until morning." I turned toward him, but his careful eyes were now focusing on a shredded piece of leather that could only be the sheath to his sword-slash-gun. I knew it had to be, for there was a faded lion's head near the opening at the top. The other paper bag was folded neatly on the table.

"What do you mean?" I said warily, gulping to try and still the growls from my roaring tummy.

"I mean, the café closed just after I left," he said.

_Oh, that's great, thanks for suggesting it, _Squall _Leonhart,_ I thought angrily, and was about to voice my thoughts when he rose from his seat and began opening the bag, setting out enough utensils for two people. Which could have meant that he was going to let me eat the dinner I missed after all, unless he was expecting company, which I severely doubted. And hoped that my doubts were correct.

I watched still as he settled into his seat again, gently placing aside his beloved sheath and sword in place of chopsticks and a bowl of ramen.

After a few minutes of my hungry gawking, he looked up, clearly relishing his food as I did my waffles.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to stare at me eating or are you going to have some?" He pointed to the chair opposite him.

Deserting my pride and the screams of rage from deep inside my mind telling me I was being even stupider and yielding than usual – and I was most definitely allowing Squall to win – I jumped up in response and raced to the other chair, nearly knocking it down in the process of sitting. But I hardly paid attention to my inelegance and made a point to ignore Squall's look that could have been amusement at my appetite and me as I picked up another pair of chopsticks and helped myself to hearty amounts of everything except the shrimp, which I turned down in disgust – seafood always made me gag.

After eating more than my fill – and like a pig, might I add – I placed the chopsticks aside (though not without licking them clean first) and sat back in my chair, relaxing happily. Squall had long since finished his own dinner, and had returned to inspecting his torn sheath.

I eyed it with curiosity. "What happened to it?" I asked him after some moments of something bordering a comfortable silence.

He didn't look up, but he seemed to hesitate in answer. "A dog." I waited for him to continue as he pulled at a huge rip, causing it to rip even more.

When he didn't, I added my own comment to his answer, "As usual?" He didn't respond, and barely paid me a glance, but I decided I'd rather like to know exactly what happened. "What about a dog? Did it ambush you or something?"

He sighed in exasperation – at me or at his better-left-dead sheath, I didn't know.

"Shouldn't you say 'thank-you' when someone gives you food?"

I almost laughed. "No…" I answered, drawing the word out to its climax, "You _bought_ me food, Squallie, you didn't _give_ me food." I smiled knowingly as he glanced up for longer than before, showing that he thought I was an idiot. "There's a big difference."

"Oh really?" he murmured to himself.

"Yes really!" I pretended to sound overjoyed that he was taking an interest in what I had to say. "You see, when someone _buys_ you food, you don't say thank-you, because munny is a small and – what was that word? – _insignificant_ feature of life, or so Nichi says." Nichi was the Traverse Hotel's bellhop who rarely lived up to the terms of his job and would've served better as a hippie than a Hotel staff member. "And when someone _gives_ you food, they take it out of their own little savings or whatevers, they don't actually _spend_ munny for the sake of a person."

"Yuffie, I don't care," he said as though telling off a five-year-old.

"Well then you shouldn't have pretended you did," I answered like a teacher to her student. Squall didn't say anything else, but I still wanted to know what happened with that dog. "So, what about the dog?"

He stirred just a little and I knew I was getting to him, but if he didn't answer, he'd probably have a headache before bedtime. "I was in the Third District when I left the waterway and some little bugger took me by surprise."

Oh, wait, let me guess – he thought it was a Heartless and brandished his sword, and when it turned out to be a dog, the little guy tore the sheath in three?

I voiced this to Squall and he finally looked up, his expression telling me, 'How did you know?' but I just smirked and shrugged a little.

"Predictable, as always," I mumbled, folding and unfolding a napkin. "It wasn't a Dalmatian was it?"

He shook his head, still looking as though I could read his mind – that would be really cool, but of course, I couldn't. "They're too tame. It was a street mutt."

"Bulldog?" I teased, pushing the napkin aside to pick up the would-be empty paper bag in search of a fortune cookie. Finding one, I opened the plastic around it.

Squall shrugged indifferently. "Don't know, don't care."

I shrugged too. "Oh well. Let it prowl the streets in search of more leather cases to rip apart, huh?" I broke the cookie in two and pulled out the fortune, popping one of the halves in my mouth. "You will find true love soon – just believe in your dreams." I coughed in all awkwardness and ridicule. "Says who?" I mumbled under my breath, glancing at Squall fleetingly before throwing the fortune into the trash bag and popping the other half of the cookie into my mouth.

My companion merely raised an eyebrow as he always did and threw his favored sheath into the bag along with everything else on the table – leftovers, used utensils, and the like – before shoving it into the bin in the corner. He set his Gunblade beside the bed to lean against the wall alongside the nightstand, and headed over to the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

I stared at the door for a few minutes before hearing the faucet of the shower turn – it was so squeaky, I bet even Aerith and Cloud in the next room would've been able to hear it – and the water as it began to pound against the ceramic floor of the bathtub.

Wasn't this Squall's second shower of the day? He always got up much earlier than I, of course, but I distinctly remember hearing someone in the shower that morning. I'm kind of strange when it comes to sleeping – it's hell to wake me up, but I'd probably be able to hear a pin drop whilst I sleep. Squall must know that better than anyone – he's my roommate, after all.

Come to think of it, it's been a while since I actually became his roommate. One year, to be precise. Before Cloud came along, I was roomed with Aerith while Squall had his own room. It was to be expected, of course, as Squall pretty much wanted nothing to do with a child like me. Sure, he risked his life – at the time, it had just been a spot on a gummi commercial flight ship – for me, but most likely it was a chivalrous act as Aerith and I were the only 'women and children' left in the Titanic-like scenario that took place ten years ago. At any rate, I shared the Red Room with 'Rith' while Squall occupied the Green Room for nine years.

Before this time, the Hotel was already getting many guests as the Heartless began invading different worlds. The Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow Rooms were the only rooms residing on the first floor, and the Purple, Orange, Pink, and Silver Rooms took up the second one. There were so many people having to take refuge in the Hotel that there was a one-month period three years ago where Aerith, Squall, Cid, and I had to share a single room – the Silver one on the second floor – with two more teenagers, each a year older than I, until the mayor of Traverse Town, Mayor Creslyn, could situate all the newcomers in various condominiums all over the town.

But once that issue was settled again, Rith and I went back to the Red Room, Squall returned to his Green Room, and Cid went to his Orange Room; the two teenagers, one boy and one girl, went to another place somewhere on the other side of the town. Then two years ago – a year before Kingdom Hearts – Aerith began training me in the art of magic, as I was familiar only to the ways of a shinobi. When her job at the Infirmary as Chief Healer and Head Nurse took all of her time, she managed by a long shot to convince Squall to take her place as teacher.

Of course, once that was managed, Cloud was returned to us one day right after Kingdom Hearts. We'd been going back and forth between homes – the Hollow Bastion and Traverse Town – continually throughout the Kingdom Hearts era. And one day, while we were staying at the Hollow Bastion to collect whatever belongings remained, Cloud showed up with a cursing Cid and one complicated story – must be complicated, considering it'd been nine years – that I still haven't figured out.

After one hell of a reunion, Cloud Strife came back with us to Traverse Town, and that was when he and Rith 'confessed their undying love' to each other and we had a problem on our hands.

Because of the situation, Aerith and Cloud resolved that they would now share the Red Room, and I would have to be moved in with Squall because none of the other rooms were free and wouldn't be for quite a while. There was no way in _hell_ I'd be sharing a room with Cid, and I knew Squall better than anyone else, so it was decided as the best way to go, though I faced a lot of ordeals from Squall for weeks to come over this horrid – in his opinion – arrangement.

Standing from the spot I'd been sitting in for the last couple of minutes, and hearing the shower still going, I took out my pajamas – an overly large t-shirt stolen from either Cloud or Squall, I'd already forgotten who, and tiny shorts I'd found hidden at the bottom of Aerith's drawers. Setting them on the bed next to myself, I settled for staring at the Gunblade to still what went on inside myself.

_I love Squall_.

I blinked, almost growling at the thought that came way too easily for my taste.

_Do I really? Yuck…_

At that, I actually laughed out loud, but fear that was I going insane made me muffle the laughter as much as I could.

.

Much later, when Squall had finally gotten out of the shower (I shouldn't really say that, since I take ten-times-longer showers than Squall does, but I'll say it anyway), dressed again in leather pants but no shirt or footwear, he lay on his side of the bed near his Gunblade while I went into the bathroom to dress, brush my teeth, and do whatever else habit and good hygiene called for before bedtime.

When I walked out, running my hands through my tousled hair in an effort to comb it so it wouldn't get even more tangled as I slept, Squall appeared to be asleep, his back to the wall, – and my side of the bed – his eyes closed, chest rising and falling evenly. As always, he slept on top of the warm blankets, which would prove an obstacle if I needed them. Traverse Town was rarely warm, even in summer, due to the lack of a sun, and the temperatures could drop to well below zero before midnight. As our bedroom didn't have a fireplace (the second floor rooms did, however, the lucky bastards) and the Hotel manager was a cheap little git, the Traverse Town Hotel could become freezing over night.

And since I was unaccustomed (more appropriately, didn't like) to sleeping in the cold – even though I'd been living in Traverse Town for a long while – I would have to fight for the only blankets we were allowed (even blankets were rationed, can you imagine?).

Gazing at the sleeping man who was my partner, teacher, babysitter, roommate, and semi-friend, I tried to figure out how I would retrieve the blanket for myself without waking him – and getting an earful of threats to throw me onto the streets or furious training for the next couple of weeks or something along those lines. But it was kinda hard when your imagination tends to run a little wilder than it's supposed to for a nineteen-year-old ninja.

Casting my look at the wooden balcony door, I checked the clock on the wall. _Nearly eleven_. It had been getting colder, but with the looming threat of a quiet battle between me, the blankets, and the monster SeeD soldier 'protecting' them, I suddenly wasn't so tired.

I certainly had no wish to toss and turn until I either froze to death or fell asleep. And to give myself something to do until I _was_ sleep and/or came up with a plan to get that comforter, I quietly picked up Squall's jacket which still hung behind the chair, slipped it on, and snuck to and out the wooden door of the balcony, leaving it open behind me in case I had to make a quick exit – or entrance, however way you look at it.

Sitting myself on the little barrier meant to keep anyone unwary enough – or blind and about waist-high – to topple some feet to the shadowy alleyway below, my back met the tiny bit of wall beside the almost-open door. Not knowing I'd encircled my hands around my knees, I closed my eyes and allowed the cold air to try penetrating Squall's thick jacket.

Smiling when I knew it couldn't, I kept my eyes sealed, training them on the white light that appeared behind shut eyelids.

And to continue with my empty conversation from before: I. Love. Squall.

'Yuck' is the first thing to come to mind when I think of that particular…phrase. I mean, is it an Aerith-and-Cloud, romantic-to-the-core, forever-together, happy-place kind of love? Or some kind of dismal, hopeless, it'll-never-happen-in-this-universe, morbid kind of love which included spilt blood and scars?

_That was a stupid question, Yuf._

Okay, maybe it was. But anyway, what _was_ love to me nonetheless? I was only nineteen – I hadn't truly changed since I turned twelve, to be truthful (which I'm usually not, mind you) – and love was a new concept I'd yet to be taught about. I've seen movies, for sure, and read books and heard tales and I suppose I've _seen_ true love, with Cloud and Rith as my subjects. But to actually define the word – that's probably as hard as writing an autobiography on Squall Leonhart, if you get my drift.

But here, maybe some incredibly insane-yet-not, psychic person honing in on my personal thoughts can answer this question if I explained how exactly I feel.

Uh…

How about…every time I hear the guy's _name_, I feel like a slop of pudding mixed with Jell-O having been stamped on and rolled about one too many times? It's true; I can see the mental image in my mind now: my knees become putty, my face turns garnet red (has anyone figured out how that works yet?), and I become an idiot with no control over her tongue and no good derisive remarks to get on his nerves, which is apparently my way of dealing with things. I was quite good at it before I came to find I had more than just a 'crush' on Squallie.

Then again, why didn't I just tell the guy – or tell _someone_ – before my brain explodes with furious abandon, as striking as the fireworks on the fourth of July? That's quite simple, actually, as easy and obvious as one plus one equals eleven: have you considered who Squall Leonhart was? 'Love' to him is a feeling, and since Squall died along with the Hollow Bastion ten years prior to this moment, I do believe that _Leon_ believes any feelings are a weakness – which is why he doesn't have any, save for his contemptuous retorts and a temper that quietly seeps through whenever I – or anyone else, though I'm probably the only one who dares to do so – pushes him too far.

It actually wasn't that I was afraid of admitting my love (whatever that was) for the inexplicable man with a name to match his heart in my thoughts. My thoughts were private and for me (unless that person peeking unbidden into my brain is still here…), so no one but myself would ever know. No, what I was afraid of was saying it out loud, even to myself, and having someone – particularly him – hear it, then either abandon me altogether or berate me for stalking him or something. That would be even more mortifying than anything, and even more hurtful as well, what with him _and_ my mind telling me how stupid I was for falling for someone who was well out of my reach. Or anyone's, for that matter.

He really wasn't interested in love anymore. Not since what's-her-name disappeared into a lifeless world as all the rest before and after her. As far as I could see, 'Leon' no longer cared for the rest of the world. To me, however, I believe he chose to stay with Aerith, Cloud, Cid, and myself simply so he could still have something that could channel the times gone by. He clung to the past without knowing that he did, because some part of him – the part that was and forever would be Squall Leonhart – still wanted to remember, while the new him, the Leon Leonhart, wanted to forget it all, along with his pain.

Maybe Squall's as naïve as he claims I am, because pain isn't something that can be forgotten with the changing of a name and the will of a mind. I'd read that once in a book I found beneath Aerith's pillow, some of her late-night reading taken from the Bastion library, called _Tinder and Trees_. It said that the mind, no matter how evil or corrupt or different or hard it was or made itself into, no matter who it happened to be, it could never truly forget. There was always a part that clung to what was supposed to be forgotten and one day, that little remembrance would be poked at and prodded until it triggered the rest of the mind to remember again.

Sighing out loud – maybe louder than I should have – I opened me eyes and raised them to the heavens above. Squall was weird. And he provoked weird feelings inside the people he encountered. Hey, I'm only nineteen, and since I was twelve, he's intrigued me to no end.

It was strange, really – Squall was strange. The mask he chose to wear all the time fascinated me as much as the person beneath it. But it wasn't as if I could explore these fascinations or thoughts any farther than assumptions would allow. I mean, hello, Squall was twenty-seven, I was nineteen, and our relationship hung precariously on a tightrope between enemies and friends: one slip-up, and we would shoot each other down like dogs. Not that we tread that line lightly and carefully: neither of us ever really cared. Except maybe me, now that I realized I loved him.

With another too-loud sigh that I failed to notice was too loud again, I came to think that that I would never tell Squall Leonhart what I felt for him. I'd have to live the rest of my life with that thought, but who cares? Anything's better than him quite literally leaving our group forever, no matter how much he wanted to cling to the past through us.

Y'know, sometimes I doubt that I love him and wonder if I really do. He gives me no reason to, right? It's pretty certain that he hates me and thinks me immature and quite stupid with no goals for life and no future. Maybe that immature thing is true (and I pride myself on it, thank-you!), but I do in fact have goals for life. In any case, the fact of the matter is that my situation is a hopeless one and my nineteen-year-old juvenile self has no idea how to handle it.

My ears twitched as I picked up a sound with the ability only a ninja could possess. Footsteps. Proverbial ones – the ones of Squall.

_He was up?_

The door creaked the slightest bit as it opened even more and Squall's face appeared, followed by his body, his once-naked torso now adorned with a regular t-shirt.

He looked around the empty part of the terrace – the glass table and metal fold-up chairs – before coming to me, sitting so quietly on the edge, where one push could send me sprawling.

His look became a glare.

"Yuffie, are you insane?"

_Probably,_ I was tempted to say, but didn't, and shrugged instead, forgetting I was wearing this man's coat.

"Do you _want_ the Hotel to get even colder than it is?" he growled, motioning to the door. "Maybe you should try leaving all of the doors open next time."

I glared back, exasperated at him more than myself. "Stop worrying about the rest of the Hotel, Squall, they'll take care of themselves. A little more cold than usual won't kill them."

Even as I said that, I knew it sounded a bit dumb, but I didn't look at him for fear that he'd be able to see something in my eyes.

"I wasn't worrying about the rest of the Hotel, I was worrying about how cold the room is at nearly half past midnight."

I sighed, this time noticing how loud my exhales were and quieting it for my own sake. "Yar, yar, I heard ya. Go to bed, Squall," I mumbled, hugging my knees closer to my body.

I felt that damned penetrating gaze of his sweep over my form – it was hard not to feel the very intensity that his stormy and unsettled eyes could produce with one hard feeling – and I knew he saw his jacket on me, knew that he'd chide me for wearing it later, knew that I would have to get my own jacket if I wanted to do this ever again.

But instead of the hoped-for overlooking of his name, he said, as automatically as ever before, "Leon." And he turned around with a final glance at the open veranda – and me – as he reentered our room and closed the door. Not a word was spoken about his jacket or my non-obedience at his 'command'. Not a word at my being out in the freezing cold in the middle of the night or my lack of any witty replies that – while not always witty – I hardly ever failed to give him.

Muttering a soft goodnight to the sky I hated, I opened the door a few minutes afterwards and closed and locked it behind me with some final thoughts including my dream and my robot-of-a-partner.

"Squall?" I whispered into the dark of our room. The curtains for the single window had been drawn closed, and with the closing of the balcony door, the room was flooded into darkness. And Squall was right – it was _freezing_.

"Leon," came the maddened reply. "Stop calling me 'Squall', Yuffie."

I could use that…

"Why?" I asked, picking my way through the dark with measured precision until my knees bumped into the foot of the bed, though not hard, and I climbed in beside 'him', noting without real consideration that he wasn't lying on the blankets anymore.

When I realized he wasn't going to answer, I crawled into the extra-warm comforters and wrapped them tightly around me, with another murmur to him because I didn't want him to answer me and have me not understand or hear the answer because I was too sleepy to do so. My mind began to lapse into other things, things like a gleaming castle and a dead little girl.

"Never mind…just goodnight, Squall."

"Leon."

Y'know…Leon Leonhart does sound really stupid.

_{tbc}_

**[a.n.] **This chapter should actually be titled 'Love: Whatever That Is', but since I want to stick to the 'To…the/as/from…'-type of chapter titles, 'To Dream the Untold will have to be sufficient enough for ya'll. Just remember that, huh? In case I ever decide to break this chain and just re-title the damn thing…

Anyway, this took me a while because I'm lazy and my muse went on vacation (again!). She's a traitorous little bitch who leaves me when I need her most and doesn't come back until she knows I've given up or will force myself to get a vacation as well.

Should I name her? _–ponders that– _

I tried going in depth with everything, including an expansion on the Hotel and a new history (though it's probably like all the others, I'm not afraid to admit) for Yuffie and her rooming arrangements and all that jazz. I also used Anii's helpful notes to my every advantage (what do you think, Nii?). I hope I pinned her personality down. I know what you said about her, but I just got to thinking: sure, she's an anything-but-spineless little brat with a small vocabulary and plenty to say, but she's _nineteen_. Maybe love or something else should change her, if even for a little bit, ne? I'll still base a lot of her oncoming self on what you said, as well as my own little tidbits, but tell me what you think. All of you: tell me what you think, la's!

_Length of Chapter III: 7, 684 words, 17 pages excluding author's notes and chapter/story titles. _

I'll write another chapter (or maybe two!) to make up for the delay; if not, I'll write ya'll a pretty little one-shot filled with total Squiffieness and maybe a songfic-slash-plot that _hasn't_ been done yet! Gasp!

Muaha. See ya. **[araclyzm]**


	5. To Find the Unfindable

**A Dream's End**

**[a.n.] **Sorry for the LOOONG delay. My brain hurts from trying to write, can you imagine? But I'm trying to focus on Yuffie's character. It's like, I get her once, and then she just falls away. It's so strange, but I'm doing my best here people, please take pity on me.

You should have not only this chapter, but two more. And a tasty little one-shot for your enjoyments will be coming soon. Two, if I'm in a good mood. Hope you enjoy it.

Yech. I just wrote three chapters and two one-shots. See what my love for ya'll makes me do!? --_sigh_-- The reviews will be answered below. So enjoy this while ya can. And yah, so what if the title sucks? I ran out of things to say. _–Sighs–_ My attempt at humor, guys. Humor _me_.

This chapter is hereby dedicated to Candace (Astaldotholwen, I think was how you spelled it?) with a great big Happy Birthday, and Moony, cause ya'll are just the greatest. And Moony-girl? -.- I _so_ do not drool, dude. (Now who says that in "Mad Mod"? Three guesses but only one chance to get it right.) **[araclyzm]**

**To Find the Un-findable **

**p.o.v. Yuffie**

You know what's the worst thing about the weather in Traverse Town?

It changes.

That may not make a lot of sense, but hear me here. The weather here has this insufferable way of not staying the same for even the smallest bit of time. It could be all sunny (or moony, in the case of Traverse Town) and happy and just lovely and all that jazz for the first half of the day, and then all of a sudden, the storm clouds will appear and the wind picks up and you get that whole 'haunted house' scenario in a matter of minutes. It's so freaking _annoying_, how the weather seems to change every other day, when really I think the thought on everyone's minds is will it just _please_ pick something and stay that way for a little while?

So, you got all this different kinds of weather spitting up every so often, and it gets so damn annoying 'cause it won't stick that way, and the weather just apparently _knows_ that you hate it and it retaliates in a way that makes you just wanna leave this unbearable place to go somewhere like the Hollow Bastion (though that place is probably worse) or Neverland or something.

It may have been freezing last night, but I slept uncomfortably in the eerie silence of the Green Room until finally being jerked awake with a _bam_ of lightning – or it could have been thunder – at around three in the morning. See, one thing to definitely be considered with me is that I absolutely _despise_ rain. Rain sucks. Period.

Like so many things on my 'hate' list, rain is very near the top, beside Squall's attitude (not to mention his way of thinking, or is that the same thing?), seafood, and people bossing me around. Ever since I was six I've just hated it so much, when a rainfall lasted nearly a week and a half, not letting up even once during that period. I'd been driven half made by the time it let up, and when it finally stopped, I was the first one to run outside. I even stayed in one of Aerith's mother's garden rooms for the night following – and got into loads of trouble with my own parents afterwards – I was so happy.

Ooh, but I hated rain with a burning passion forever and a day after that. I wasn't scared of it – oh no, I could never be 'scared' of some water from the sky – but it irritated me to no end with how long it would go on or how much of it the sky would dare to spill.

The word thunder was the first thing to run through my mind when the loud bang announced itself to the Green Room, rattling no one but me. Well, the first word after '_what in the freaking hell was that!?_'. And thunder is always to be associated with rain because together, thunder and lightning make? I'll give you three guesses, but only one chance to guess correctly. And if that makes sense, you'll let me know.

_Crackle...BAM!!_

"GYAH!!!" I screamed as I jumped up, jolting awake from what might have been a half-sleeping stupor, thrashing around as though the devil himself was after me. It took me more than a few minutes to figure out that the 'devil' himself was only the thunder crackling loudly and proclaiming to the town that a storm was brewing. But only when I finally shut my mouth did I feel a sharp pain on my back.

Someone had hit me.

Turning a little for no apparent reason, I saw Squall propped up on his elbows, staring at me like he'd never before seen me in his life and had awoken to the unwanted surprise of me in his bed.

"_What the hell is wrong with you!?_" he hissed upon seeing that I finally saw him awake.

Correction. _Squall_ had hit me.

Once concluding that, I narrowed my eyes treacherously low and grit my teeth so hard I think I chipped a tooth.

"_ME?!_" I growled in hardly a tone higher than his. "_Who the hell gives _you_ any right to put your hand on me SQUALL LEONHART!?_" His name came out as a shout I'm sure carried into the Red Room.

He sat up entirely, shushing me with a strange glare that I've hardly ever seen before.

"It's _Leon_, and it was the only goddamn way to get you to _shut up_!" he seethed. "It's just _thunder_, Yuffie, not the damn Heartless or the bloody cavalry! What is the _matter_ with you!?"

Ugh. Squall is such a _jerk_.

I rolled my eyes and tried unraveling myself from the sheets I'd somehow managed to get tangled in while I slept. "Well, excuse _me_ if I happen to hate lightning! Squall, everyone is afraid of something so sue me if I can't stand _lightning_."

"Stop calling me Squall or I'll make you regret it, Yuffie," he hissed through teeth gritted harder than mine, earning an almost shocked look on my part. "You're supposed to be a _ninja_ in a monster-filled world, how can you be scared of something as trivial as a_ storm_? And it's _thunder_, learn the difference!" He scoffed and none-too-gracefully got to his feet, picking his way through the dark to the bathroom and slamming the door in a none-too-quietly fashion.

I coughed loudly at his would-be threat and threw the sheets fully off of me, getting to my hands and knees and yelling, "I CAN TELL THE DIFFERENCE, THANK-YOU VERY MUCH! And yes, I know I'm a ninja, but be happy I'm not afraid of the Heartless at the very least!" Huffing, I felt my voice going slightly hoarse, but couldn't resist adding, "You ass!"

The bathroom door was almost ripped off its hinges as it whished back open with the force of Squall's rage and he stomped out of it, not bothering to flick the light off. He looked so _angry_, it was kind of comical to see the great Leon Leonhart losing his cool. But I didn't dare laugh at him, because he very well looked as though he might've killed me if the given circumstance that I was nearer to the Gunblade than he was reversed.

"Well do you mind NOT yelling at three in the morning at least?" he yelled back, forgetting that it was indeed nearly three in the morning and it was a safe bet that the town was asleep.

There was a loud pounding at the door that connected the Green and Red Rooms.

"Hey!" Cloud's bleary voice tried its best to bellow through the door. "Do you mind having this lover's spat in the morning maybe? Some people actually like to sleep at night, you know!"

"_STAY OUT OF IT BLONDIE!!_" Squall and I both bellowed back.

"SHADDAP WILL YOU!" someone else yelled, but this time it came from outside the hallway door, followed by footsteps, which I took to mean that the offender screaming through our door had left.

Upon hearing Cloud's furious muttering fade away, I turned another glare at Squall, who had stayed rooted to his spot not three feet from the bathroom door, and he just glared back.

"Ya wanna get us kicked out now, Squall?" I whispered fervently, trying to keep my voice lowered for that very reason.

"Leon, and if I remember correctly, _you're_ the one who started screaming and waking the whole town up," Squall said venomously in something bordering a whisper and his regular speaking volume, not once forgetting to correct me on his name.

"Well then you obviously don't _remember correctly_ because you're the one who dared to put your hands on me as if you had the friggin' right to do so! Y'know, I could call the police on you for that!" I seethed, rising to just my knees so I could cross my arms in a defiant pose. Not sure how defiant it looked with me looking like a madwoman, my hair askew and crud in my eyes, but we'll get back to that later.

"And what are you going to say?" Squall mocked, imitating me as his arms crossed his chest. "That the twenty-eight-year-old year old man sleeping in your bed tapped you lightly on the back to get you to shut your mouth so you wouldn't get us kicked out of the damn hotel!?"

I didn't answer that, though I knew he won himself a point there, and continued to interrogate him on another subject. But nothing would come to mind except the fact that Squall hadn't stormed out of the room yelling that this was a waste of his time already. Then I just voiced my earlier thoughts.

"Squall Leonhart, _you are such a jerk_!" I finally screamed, squeezing my eyes shut as I did so, my hands balling into fists against my chest. "You're always so freaking _difficult_! It's _lightning _and _thunder_ and I just happen to hate it, okay? When you hear a great big bang and you're half dead in a freezing room, a nineteen-year-old girl's imagination tends to run little wild, all right? So, yeah, I jumped out of my skin because I thought I was being shot out, but ya know, I'm not the first, so maybe you can just stop acting like such a big, macho, I'm-afraid-of-nothing-but-my-past, coldhearted, distanced shithead JERK for once and maybe take pity on me or just _not_ be such a damn DOLT!?"

A long silence followed my proclamation as Squall stood in the buzzing light from the bathroom like a solitary speck of green in a lawn of brown grass, gazing at me in a way I don't think I'd ever seen. No longer did he seem angry; more like startled in a way he'd never been before, but it was a bad kind of surprise. It was as if he was _disappointed_ in me.

And that kind of hurt.

But even more when he reached for his jacket I'd remembered at the last minute to sling back over the chair and pulled it on, slipping his boots on unnoticeably, too.

He shut the light in the bathroom off...

...Cast one last unseen glance at me...

...And grabbed his keys and blade before unlocking the balcony door and disappearing outside, shutting the door with him.

Leaving me to think about what I just said, and to wonder if he was coming back at all.

_He's still a jerk, though._

__

**__**

I didn't go to sleep until around six in the morning, but it was a fretful kind of sleep filled with nightmares and lots of tossing and turning. I'd slept in again, of course, and I remembered even before I finally submitted to opening my eyes that Squall would not be there, whether or not we really had that fight last night. I was still furious with the man for being so damn difficult. There was a strong hammer thudding at the back of my head, and to make matters worse, I heard a soft pitter-patter of droplets on the window and knew as well that it was raining.

"Aw...c'mon..." I moaned into a pillow. "Why can't you stop _raining_...?"

There was another crackle of thunder as if in response.

Ugh.

How I wished that I could just turn over and go back to sleep.

But no, I couldn't. Not with that annoying noise made by the godforsaken rain, guilty thoughts of Squall, and the prospect of Aerith zeroing in on my 'thoughts' on the _Romeo and Juliet_ thing. Especially that last one. If I got up and somehow wound up talking with her (like I always seem to do), she'd start questioning me, and I didn't even bother reading the thing. If I didn't get up, she'd probably be the one to rouse me and I'd have to face her right away. So basically I had no choice – then again, when did I ever when it came to Miss Rith?

There was a knock at the door.

Man, I really hated early-morning guests.

"We're closed!" I yelled groggily, unsure and uncaring whether the knock resonated from the hallway door or the Green Room/Red Room door.

"Who said it was your room to close?" came the muffled voice of a person too familiar for my taste.

I sighed when my thoughts strained themselves into working order and named the guy at the door: Daved Cassady, the Hotel manager of one year, and one hell of a pain in the butt. Staggering to my feet like a drunken fool, I ran a hand through my hair to try and comb it through and rubbed the grime out of my eyes. Opening the hallway door, I restrained my eyes from rolling at the man who filled the doorframe like cream filled an Oreo cookie.

I hated this guy no matter how high his IQ was or how smooth his manner and comments were – he was ruder to me than I could ever be, bigger than the Traverse Town Gizmo Shop, and meaner than Cid at his worst (at least to me, but that could be that he just dislikes me a whole lot). Not only that, but he constantly held the repulsive stench of three-month-old cheese thrown into a garbage dump and then urinated upon a few times, though his look, at least, was much easier on the eyes. It seemed to me that he had no patience for anyone but Aerith, and it was clearly obvious to everyone that he had a crush on the flower girl. Which is completely _wrong_, when taking into consideration that Daved is married and Aerith is three timers younger than he.

In other words, he was like Cid, only I happened to like Cid, and at least the gummy mechanic had the brains to take a shower every day.

Resisting the urge to cringe and cover my nose against the smell, I lowered my gaze to the floor, and breathed through my mouth as loudly as I could.

"Yeah, whadduya want?" I asked woozily, not at all wondering why the Hotel manager would have the grace to show up at my door.

He 'ahem'-ed and I was forced to look up. Despite the rest of his person, his face was relatively clean, his beard trimmed and his red hair smoothed back. His would-be-blue eyes were closed in frustration, as though it was a nuisance to look down upon me.

"Excuse me, Miss Kisaragi," he said in forced politeness and in such a fake English accent that I almost grinned derisively at him, but bit my lip and stood at attention – perhaps to spite him, I don't really know. But I forced all tiredness away from my being and spoke.

"Why, good day to you, my fine fellow," I responded in a just-as-fake accent, but it sounded so much better than his, I'm sure. "And how may I be helping ye today?" I remembered skimming that Shakespeare thing and noticing the out-of-the-ordinary words. Hopefully I didn't use these words wrong. Not saying that I cared what he though, I just didn't want _this_ guy to think I was an idiot, too.

He stared down his pointed nose at me, every inch the refined gentlemen acting in the face of a rude person. "Good day," he replied scornfully. "And you'll be helping me by packing up your things and getting out of my Hotel."

I think my jaw fell and rolled across the floor.

"Ex-excuse me?" I stammered, collecting myself and fully looking at him without any thoughts of his lack of bodily hygiene. "What are you talking about?" Even though I knew exactly what he was talking about, I had to ask to make sure. If I'd learned anything from Squall after all these years, it was how to use a situation such as this to worm your way out of a bad ending.

Daved pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed dramatically, as though he was pretending to be sorry for me, even though we both knew that the action was indeed a fake.

"Look, Miss Kisaragi, if there's one thing I can't tolerate–"

"Besides me?" I butted in, looking livid.

He abstained from glaring. "Besides you," he growled in agreement, "is people – especially bloody teenagers and their damned boyfriends – yelling at three a.m. and waking up my entire Hotel." He gestured to the hallway behind him. "I had three people come to me last night complaining of the noise, one of whom reported that you verbally abused him before he would leave you alone."

"'Verbally abused'? I didn't say a word to anyone!" I lied, flicking my hair out of my face. "And he's not my boyfriend!" The second part was true, of course. But I knew the only person we 'verbally abused' was Cloud, and he would never report us. Just threaten us with his huge sword later, but never report us to the Big Guy. I mean, he had a grudge against Cassady for liking Aerith in the first place, so why would he set one foot near him?

"Well, whether you did or didn't, the entire Hotel most definitely heard you both, because my bedroom," – he meant the Manager's Room – "is all the way on the second floor, on the other side of the hallway, and I heard you clear as crystal even with my head buried under the pillow. Now, Miss Kisaragi, I do believe you owe me an apology. And if you want to stay in this Hotel, you will pay the fee for your indiscretion and disrespect of the rest of the Hotel and for disturbing the peace. If you refuse, you will be evicted. Is that clear?"

He looked down at me sternly, no longer sophisticated and regal, just angry and greedy for the money he knew I had no choice but to give.

Grumbling words you'd only hear Cid say, I closed my eyes and let out a long, ragged breath. "Well don't get your panties in a twist, sunshine," I grumbled to myself, taking care to make sure that _he_ didn't hear, and backed into my room to seek out whatever amount of currency I had left of my weekly savings. Resentful as I was of giving up my money, I didn't savor the fact that I'd end up sleeping in some empty house in the Third District or other, and anyway, I'd just get my half of the munny back from Squall later, if I ever saw him again.

That thought struck a chord in my chest, but I ignored it fervidly, claiming internally that Squall was and always would be a jackass with no heart, and that perhaps it was better if I really never saw him again.

Digging up my munny in that jungle I call a drawer, I found at least one hundred – which was all I had left, I guess – and dragged myself back to the door, part of me urging myself to just apologize and give the guy his required amount before his stink melts up my room and Squall gets even madder if he came back, another part trying to keep me at the dresser so I wouldn't have to pay this guy just 'cause he was so unfair.

Stiffly dropping the munny in his grubby palm – and wondering vaguely if he'd ever clipped or cleaned his fingernails before – I stared up at him again, insolently crossing my arms in a loose fashion and giving him a look as if to say, _now what?_

"Well?" he said after a while, looking expectant as he counted his money.

"Well what?" I retorted, raising an eyebrow. He finished counting the munny I'd so unwillingly given him and turned away, looking smug.

"Good day to you," he answered, walking down the hall with a victorious air. He stopped halfway down and turned his torso (or tried to, considering his...er...weight problem, you could call it) to look back, one bushy eyebrow cocked. "And, Miss Kisaragi, if you ever pull another stunt like what you pulled last night, you _will_ be evicted with a much higher fee and no chance of negotiations." With that, he turned again, no other comments about me actually _not_ being the only offender in questions, nor any comments about who the doinks who squealed on us were.

But instead of questioning any of that and letting him presume I actually wanted his presence, I simply watched as he disappeared up the elevator shaft (within the elevator, of course), a hated storm cloud hanging over my head. Sighing with relief as he disappeared, I retreated back into my room, thoughts of Squall, Aerith, and smelly smells, but mostly Squall, on my mind.

Casting a gaze around the room, I realized that it felt so damn _empty_ for some reason. Maybe it was just my thoughts about Squall not being there that made it feel so empty, because the room looked the same as it always had when I woke up in the morning. Whatever the reason, perhaps it was in an effort to make the place look different, but I did what I never did before: I made the bed. Not necessarily 'made', because I don't think shaking out the covers and letting them fall sloppily back onto the bed was to be considered made. That, and I never really liked making the bed anyway. But it was more than I usually did, so, I guess, be happy with whatcha got.

Thinking maybe it'd be a good idea to open the curtains as well, I reached over the bed and pulled them open. I was rewarded for my thoughts with a flash of lightning and a rumbling of thunder in the distance, both of which made me jerk backward in surprise. The storm must have really been bad. Ironically, there was also a kind of tension to the air that made me feel like jumping outside and smashing something.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with another look at the room, I tried to pin my thoughts on what was so wrong with this picture. I was _mad_ at Squall. It wasn't the first time; no, of course it wasn't, 'cause Squall Leonhart always made me mad one way or another. But, I don't know, usually Squall just caught an attitude with me and kicked me off the bed or something, or just ignored me, not even bothering to fight with me. The worst he would do was just ignore me altogether. But this time was so very different from all the other times Squall and me fought. This time, he actually took _part_ in the usually one-sided (one-sided as in, I'm usually the one who fights...he just doesn't really say anything) clash-of-the-words, and, more interesting yet, it was as if I _disappointed_ him in some way, as if he expected better out of me.

That was actually kinda disappointing on _my_ part, to tell you the truth. To have Squall _expect_ a higher standard than what he saw was not uncommon – hell, it'd be wow-worthy if he didn't after being introduced to something – but I had long ago come to know that Squall looked forward to nothing from me and that used to suit me perfectly fine.

I have no idea how that relates to us getting into a fight. But something, some little annoying, nitpicking voice at the back of my head that everyone knows and just _loves_ kept saying that maybe this time was different for another reason, not just that Squall had been disappointed in me. Was it because my last words to him struck something deep inside, just as they did in me?

I don't know. How my thoughts even came up with that last excuse is beyond me anyway.

Scratching the back of my head in frustration, I took to my feet, finding myself in the bathroom in no time at all. Deciding a shower might be best to calm my annoying thoughts, I closed the door behind me.

Maybe half an hour later, I came out of the steaming bathroom dressed in a small green t-shirt and black jeans, toweling my newly washed hair while trying to pull my sneakers on. Combing out my ebony mane, however short, was a nightmare. I _loathed _doing it myself, but would never let anyone else touch it.

But finally succeeding in getting it to look somewhat decent, I snapped on my general silver headband and looked around the anything-but-neat room, finding myself again on the bed, feeling somewhat at a loss of what to do. Squall was gone to who-knows-where, Aerith was most likely at the Infirmary, Cid at his Gummi Repair Shop, and Cloud at the Item Synthesis Shop. Today was a Sunday, the fourth of December to be exact, it was raining, and I was already bored as hell at 12:45 p.m. I was too mad at Squall (and myself) to actually spend time seeking him out and I didn't want Aerith bugging me.

For once in my life, I didn't know what to do. Literally.

What's a ninja to do when there's nothing that calls for her?

_Apologize to Squall_, said some stern voice that belonged in the trash.

_Nuh-uh. Make me._

_You owe it to him._

_No I don't! Why should I spend time apologizing to someone who is such a jerk to me?_

_Is that always your line of reasoning? That you're the victim all the time?_

_Yes! Maybe. I don't know. What are you getting at?_

_You mean, what am _I_ getting at._

_Yeah. No. Ick. You disgusting thing, get out of my mind!_

_Not until I apologize to Squall._

_His name is Leon!_

I blinked, feeling as if I'd been woken up from sleep rather than a half-trance fight between me, myself, and I. God, that sounds so stupid. But did I just _defend_ Squall's wishes to be called Leon? To _myself_? Good gawd, this stuff is messing with my mind...

Well, I s'pose my mind'll never leave me alone, will it? Even as I think it, I know I would sound so dumb if I were to say it out loud.

With quiet (and yeah, always gotta be a little reluctant) resolve, I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to the closet, pulling open the doors as slowly as I could. If there was nothing for me to do, I'd find something to do. Maybe get paid as well. Rummaging through the closet for a jacket of some sort, I saw Squall's leather one standing uncharacteristically alone – and there, for another matter. Squall never forgot to wear his jacket and was never seen without it on or with him, as if it was as sacred as the lion pendant around his neck. And wasn't I absolutely certain that I'd seen him tug it on last night?

I pulled it off the hanger and inspected it. Ah, there was a difference, one I noticed once it was fully out of the closet. Maybe it was all the clothing overlapping that made me miss what was obviously there, but this jacket was the one Squall only wore in winter, and only on the coldest of days. There was fur all around the nape of the neck and the sleeves of this jacket were much puffier than the other. I threw a look at the window, where, as if on cue, light flashed, followed by a bang, and the rain seemed to come down harder than before.

Smiling slightly, I shoved the jacket back inside – though the thought of walking around wearing the beautiful, warm thing and not having anyone see was almost too good a challenge to resist – and pulled another, thinner denim jacket out, one that that I had no idea from where it came, followed by my longest yellow scarf, which hung limply on a hook on the door. Wrenching the cruddy jacket on – it was bigger than I by a size, though it did nothing to steel me against the undoubted coldness of outside nor the rain which would most likely drench me in seconds – I wrapped the scarf tightly about my neck and mouth, remembering at the last minute to snatch a black baseball cap I'd found a while back off another hook and yank it on my head.

These garments, if at all, would at least help protect me some against the rain as I sought for some kind of task to do for the day. Which is really, really sad, considering I'd never done so before.

_Don't be silly. You're going to find a quick job somewhere and get paid. You're broke, remember?_

Sighing at this logic, I found my shuriken pouch and tied it at the belt loop of my jeans, grabbing my keys and stuffing them in my coat pocket as I looked longingly at the room again and left it, locking the door behind me. Only when I got outside did I change my tact and, instead of heading in the direction of the First District, made for the Third.

_Something is so definitely wrong with me. _

****

_It's raining harder than I thought_, I growled ferociously in my mind. Damn it, why couldn't I just stay in the Hotel? Who _cared_ about finding a purpose or finding Squall; it was raining like hell was soon to come! Sheesh! It wasn't even spring! _Spring_ called for this kind of weather, not _winter_. Man, Mother Nature's really tossing her cookies if she can't even get that right.

Grumbling as I made my way across the many feet of Second District to Third, I found I was probably the only idiot outside and without an umbrella. I was drenched straight through my jacket and hat and clothes, and it was as if I'd taken a second shower. Jeez. I was going to get _so_ sick after this, it wasn't even funny.

Emerging behind the Second District/Third District doors, I held my hands over my head in a last ditch effort to keep me a little dry (though it was quite clear the effort was completely useless) and ran toward the brown door with the faded red flame, casting a first level Fire attack at it to open it. Of the spells I'd already been taught, Fire was the first and foremost I'd learned so I'd be able to get myself to Merlin's if the need arose.

The door open with a swoosh and I was gratefully allowed into the cave that housed a small body of water and Merlin's study. I shook off the water like a wet dog then growled at the analogy I chose to use. Dog. Hmph. What a joke.

Pulling the baseball cap off my head and loosening my scarf, I found I was worse than I'd begun to presume. Shivering and dripping from head to tiny toe – but using every single speck of dignity in me to not slip as I jumped across the stones – I was happy I'd chosen to come to Merlin's rather than swimming through the Waterway's acid water.

Landing with a grumble on the steps of Merlin's solitary isle, I circled it fully, coming to the green cloth and pushing it aside rudely, not much caring if the occupants inside weren't in the mood for guests or something along that line.

Inside, Merlin and the Fairy Godmother sat deep in conversation at the table, the Fairy Godmother looking completely annoyed, Merlin's face one of determined stubbornness. Both their faces jerked to look up at mine as I entered, cold and wet, and from their immediate reactions at having a guest, they appeared to have been waiting for someone.

"Merryweather, thank goodness you're finally here–" Merlin began before his eyes adjusted to see who truly stood in the doorway. I couldn't help smirking sheepishly at the wizard's fading eyesight and mistaking me for whoever 'Merryweather' happened to be.

"Hey," I hailed with a wave. The Fairy Godmother's earlier mask of annoyance changed to her regular one as she took in my appearance and bid me a hello and the customary 'oh dear!' that came with too much concern.

"My dear, is that Yuffie?" Merlin said, squinting behind his already thick glasses. I shrugged, then nodded.

"Last time I checked. I just wanted to get down to the waterway," I told them, pointing to the floor.

"Why, yes, of course, dear!" Merlin replied, gesturing almost absently at the floor and nodding as it opened to reveal a platform. But the Fairy Godmother had bustled over to me, waving her wooden wand recklessly around me until she was fairly certain her magic had been weaved enough to make me dry. I couldn't help sighing with the warmth that came from her magic and smiled truly at the elderly sorceress, never mind how much I just wanted to get down to the waterway and give Squall a piece of my mind. If, assuming all my thoughts of Squall were correct, he was there at all.

"Hey...thanks!" The Fairy Godmother smiled back and said it was her pleasure, before waving her wand again, to be followed by the appearance of a dark brown robe similar to her own, only of a different color. She handed it to me, saying it would keep me warm and would be a good raincoat for other occasions like now. "Wow...thank-you. Really." I waved at her in thanks and jumped onto the platform as it began to descend quietly into the Secret Waterway.

Okay, so I didn't know how to say a proper thank-you. Can ya blame me? I was still real grateful for the elderly woman's help, though I may never show exactly how much. I never said thanks and didn't bother trying to make it a habit.

Ten seconds before the lift stop, I heard the slashing of a sword, and knew right away that this was where Leon had sought shelter from the rain, if not anywhere else.

Ten seconds before the lift stop, I ran out of things to say. Why was I even looking for this egotistical, way-too-collected bastard? To apologize to him? To make _him_ apologize to _me_? Why bother if I knew what the outcome would be: us more than likely getting into another verbal brawl? It was to be expected with him. Like I said. He's predictable. He can't take someone by surprise, which makes it all the worse for me.

_Leon Leonhart...Squall Leonhart...whatever his name was, he was still the same._

_{tbc}_

**[a.n.] **F.Y.I, my darlings: 'Daved' is pronounced 'David', just so you don't pronounce it to rhyme with 'saved'. Darling Daved will be _so_ offended.

As much as this chapter sucked, I do hope you enjoyed it. I had a headache near the beginning and a very strong urge to not write until morning (since it was night when I began), but I pushed myself to my limit for you guys. And anyway, I felt a need to end it earlier than usual, ya know? Hopefully ya'll will like the next chapter better.

And yeah, Squall –did– hit Yuffie, but it was completely understandable, ne? Muaha.

Anyway, _length of chapter: 5, 774 words (damn! Not enough!) and 13 pages, excluding author notes and titles._

_Sneak peak of next chapter: Yuffie apologizes, but not without having the satisfaction of throwing Squall into the mud. Aerith bugs, Yuffie again holds her own, and Blondie threatens us with his powerhouse sword for waking him up at three a.m. And yar, yar, I hear you when you say I should start moving the plot along. But too bad. –bleh–_

And the reviews to be answered:

**Deplora**: Your stories are really lovely, Miss Deplora. I'm glad you like my work.

**TiredAnii**: Ah! You liked it, you really, really liked it! Muaha.

**Astaldotholwen**: You're right. _–smile–_ And your poem is really cool!!! Thanks for the review.

**BlueEyedDemon1**: So it appears. . And I guess you guys'll be getting both the one-shot and chapter, ne? Enjoy!

**Lithe**: _-sniff-_ Your reviews are so short and to the point, my friend. Never any criticisms? I still luff 'em. Thanks for reading!

**Crimson Kasumi**: "Love: Whatever That Was" will stay in my mind for a while. I'll write a one-shot or something with it! Muaha. Glad you enjoyed the chapter. I _like_ writing long chapters, they are so FUN!

Eck. I didn't do a really good job with this chapter. I **–**did– finish it at midnight. PITY ME! If anything, it's not as good as the last chapter, but better than the rest.

_-prays-_ Please agree, please agree, please agree... **[araclyzm]**


	6. To Surprise and Despise

**A Dream's End**

**[a.n.] **Enjoy. Please! I BEG OF YOU! **[araclyzm]**

**To Surprise and Despise **

**p.o.v. Yuffie**

I slung the brown robe quietly around me, allowing little to no sound at all as I tied the string around my neck. Despite running out of things to say for once in my life, I managed to regain my head and tiny vocabulary and wondered for not the first time why I had opted to find Squall instead of finding some money, when the latter seemed all the more pleasing and attainable. Still, like most of my pranks, this seemed too much to resist. Smirking at the image that popped up in my mind at Squall's most expected reaction, I also lifted the hood to conceal my face. Muah ha. This would be such fun. Sure, I'd apologize like I was supposed to (yeah right!). But not before scaring the skittles outta Squall first!

_I'm really so evil sometimes. _

Walking silently down the stairs, I soon found myself standing at where the even marble hallway floor ended and the smooth, damp waterway stones began. Not too surprisingly, Squall wasn't facing me, though he was more or less ten feet away from where I stood, his sharp sword glinting in the firelight of the six lighted torches that hung from the walls.

I leaned against the frame of the hallway, facing his back. He had shed his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly aside and on the ground some feet from me, revealing a semi-baggy black t-shirt, which, like his jacket seemed, was drenched with both sweat and water.

A thought came to me.

_Had Squall slept here, in this yucky place all night?_

Another followed, successfully making my hidden eyes widen.

_Did he sleep here...because of me? _

And of course, some kind of voice just _had_ to interrupt with a venomous, _Serves him right for putting his hands on me. The nerve..._

I sighed inwardly and continued to stare at his back. His movements were toned, polished to perfection like a shiny porcelain doll or a brand new coin. They melded into each other like fluid, some kind of waltz only done in the water. His actions played in succession as though planned out, like a dance or a song. One step, two step; one note, two note. Thrust, parry, slice, thrust, thrust, swing. A game with provided answers, or a robot programmed to perfection. It's what makes him as predictable as me at times.

Though I'd never rise to his standards, as I'd learned not only last night, but many times before.

Damned thoughts. _Sigh_. Inwardly, 'course, 'cause I couldn't let dear Squallie hear my sighing. He'd proved his hearing was real good already.

_Whatever._

Maybe I should try burying the feeling. Y'know which one I'm talking about. _Love_, of all things cursed. What the hell is love when you hardly know if it's true on your part and know for a fact it won't be returned? Yeah, I'm sure that same question's plagued many more. But hot damn, it's so very true! I'm nineteen, for crying out loud! I shouldn't be falling in _love_!

I mean, it's so _ew_-worthy. Love is swapping spit; sweaty palms; sick, gooey glances; and spending the rest of one's _life_ – and life can last a long time! – with the same person, the same faulty, annoying person that will never leave or change, especially if the love is supposed to be true, whatever that's supposed to mean.

I shouldn't be trying to build a relationship. Hell no. I should be distancing myself as much as possible from this guy, this twenty-seven-year-old swordsman-person thing who caged himself from his own emotions but slowly melted this weak little heart of mine that didn't need melting in the first place. It's _sickening_.

That's not true...really... 

_Hell yah it is. _Growl.

_You're just afraid._

_Of what? Some feeling? _

It's not just a feeling, Yuffie... 

Damn, the voice is singing now. Pfft...when did this voice even get up there in my head anyway!? Ah-hah, I bet it's that insanity-now-proven person peeking illegally into my thoughts! It solidified itself into a second voice!

How freaking disturbing. Like everything else in this godforsaken town, this sun-forsaken world.

_Don't wanna be rejected for feelin' what you feel, do ya? Don't very much fancy the feelin', huh?_

No_, I don't, thank-you, now leave me alone. I'm trying to stare at Squall._

_He won't turn around, not for a while._

_Yar, I know. _A roll of the eyes.

Too much to bear, darling? Too much pain to come from it? Are you afraid? 

_No! _

_You're just a child, Yuffie, you're still afraid and have every right to be._

_What are you getting at _this_ time?_

_Wake up. Wake up and open your naïve little eyes. You're hiding behind your immaturity. Really, you have every chance to just grow up. Live up to _his_ standards. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you truly want?_

_No. And I'm proud of my immaturity, because it's _real.

No, it's not and neither are you... 

Like the way Squall hides behind the disguise of cold solitude and detachment, I guess. But unlike how it is for that guy, I'm _real_. I am actually a child who revels in tomfoolery – some word meaning pranks and the joker and such? – and loves to be immature simply for the sake of _being_ immature and the fact that immaturity, like childhood, is way too fleeting.

Or maybe not. I _did_ get a fortune cookie once saying that while childhood is fleeting, immaturity can last forever.

Looking away from my thoughts, I continued to watch him from the corner of my eye and through unmanageable ebony bangs. I hate those bangs. They get in my way one time too many, in turn making me the klutzy fool Squall thinks I am and will forever be. Innocent as they seem, they subtract more points from my already low self-esteem.

Not that I care. They're just bangs. It's just self-esteem.

Yeah. No big.

How much time had gone by since I came? I didn't know, but I guess Squall's training doesn't stop for time to catch up, for he continued to move around in watery motions. Beautiful motions. A ballet, a dance, a movie. Whatever you called it, it was undeniably pretty, which is weird for me to say bearing in mind exactly who I am. But then again, when did I ever know the difference between beautiful and ugly?

I continued to stare for some reason, but he didn't notice. Of course he wouldn't. He never does. Or rather, he chooses not to. It's actually kinda unnerving when you come right down to it – you'd expect a soldier like him to become accustomed to being watched or something, so he'd have the instincts to seek out the watcher itself.

Biting back the sigh that threatened to come forth, I pushed away from the wall, fiddling with the string that tied the cloth of brown fabric to me. Should I make my entrance now? Now seemed the perfect time. But what was I going to say? Would he recognize me under the cloak?

Whether or not it was the perfect time, it was that specific time anyway that Squall pivoted as if to avoid an unlucky try at his life that had gone unblocked but stopped mid-step upon seeing my form standing there, so alone and quiet and _there,_ close enough for him to shoot me with the Gun in his blade.

Heh. I made a joke. Gun. Blade.

Anyway.

His expression was classic, and with a laugh almost erupting from my throat, I quietly figured it's at a time like this that I wished I had a camera.

His sword nearly clattered to the floor, but he caught himself at the third-to-last second and dove into his trademarked fighting stance – pose, posture, position, whatever – with his eyes narrowing to a point. I couldn't help noticing that there were purplish-green marks under his eyes, bags that had rarely been there before. As thoughts always seemed to do, one popped up again, taunting me as it proposed he'd stayed up all night because I'd practically booted him out of the Hotel room.

I lowered my voice to try and mask it. "Mornin'."

"What do you want?" It came as a snarl, but he sounded tired. Sad almost. Was that because of me? Well, ain't that a thought, huh?

What I said next came out as a whisper, though I have no idea why it came out at all. "...Your heart..."

Whether or not that was true – probably is, in the metaphorical (not literal!) sense – Squall's cobalt eyes widened and narrowed again, his sword starting to hum. He was probably going to shoot me, but I could have dodged it easily enough. It was still a comical sight to see, and it took all my willpower not to just break down and laugh at Squall's failure to see who I was.

"Squall Leonhart..." I muttered in my best ghost voice, taking a step forward, "What are you doing here?"

He blinked, very un-Squallish. "...Who are you?" No questioning how I knew who he was. He could never give himself away – Reverse Psychology for Dummies, y'know.

I smirked beneath the hood and with whatever ninja was in me, I jumped the distance between us and landed squarely in front of dear Squall, who seemed so surprised at the action that he almost did drop his sword, but his instincts as a fighter kicked in in a millisecond when he brought the sword up to crash on my head.

"Wah...SQUALLIE!" I yelled as I ducked and the wind above me whooshed along with the sword's great swipe. Squall faltered and let go of the sword altogether as soon as I yelled, dropping right away to my level. My hood had flown back and the brown robe was threatening to come away. Whether or not I wanted him too (I'm not really sure _what _I wanted), Squall already knew who I was.

"Yuffie?" I looked up. Oh yeah. He was confused.

_Great idea, Yuf._

_Oy just shut up._

"Hey, Squall..." I hesitated for a second before standing, tugging at the string until it came loose and the cloak fell away. Squall stared at me – jeez, what _is_ it with people and staring!? – also rising to his full height. I smirked crookedly, though I knew that I was busted. I came here to scare the living chipmunks outta Squall (before I force him to apologize) and what do I do instead? Nearly get my head chopped off because Squall thinks I'm a ghost.

"Yuffie, how'd you find me here?" Squall whispered, not even bothering to apologize for nearly killing me, the cruel man. He retrieved his sword from its spot on the bank where stone met water and then went for his jacket, pulling it on, and I knew he was trying to get away from me. He didn't care about how I'd gone through the rain, through those demented stones, and through the effort of trying to scare him, just to apologize. Maybe I shouldn't have. Damnit, I know I should.

"Squall, wait," I heard myself saying. _Ick_, was I asking Squall to wait? Damn, damn, damn, damn...And softly too! Was something wrong with me? Oh, no, of course not. Nothing's wrong with _me_, it's just the rest of the world that's defected.

"It's Leon." He paused, eyeing me. "What do you want?" he repeated his earlier question. I sighed in exasperation and pointed accusingly at him.

"You hit me last night and then you disappeared for ten hours, so you better say sorry for trying to kill me _and _making me worry, stupid!" Wow. Did I actually say that? Amazing how words just happen to pop out, huh?

The eyebrow rose like it always does. "Don't you think _you_ should apologize for waking _me_ up at three a.m. with your childish fears and then trying to scare the shit out of me just now?"

I clucked my tongue in all irritation, glaring again. "Potty-mouth! And they are so _not_ childish fears, okay? Like I said before, I just hate thunder, end of story. You still shouldn't have hit me!"

"I didn't hit you. I just tapped you."

Oh. Yeah. Right.

"Yah, as if, Squall Leonhart." Glare. "You still put your hand on me."

"In the farthest sense of the phrase."

"You're an ass."

"You're a brat."

Where was this going? Why was Squall once again 'humoring' me by fighting with me? It's at times like these where he's the most _un_predictable. And gawd, that gets annoying, more so than anything else he does, including correcting me all the time.

"Just say sorry!"

"Why don't you?"

"Why are you being so damn difficult?"

"I'm _always_ difficult, Yuffie, you said so yourself."

I stopped short then, finding myself crossing my arms and leaning a little to the left with a sassy little stare set directly on Squall, out of my own defiance and aggravation of this guy. The look that flashed through his eyes when he said that made me stop and wonder what he was getting at.

"Yah, sure, like you're really going to admit that and mean it." I rolled my eyes, feeling suddenly like the adult of the conversation. In an effort to wipe _that_ horrid thought away, I stomped over to Squall and poked him in the chest with every word that came out of my mouth, slowly pushing him toward the less-than-lukewarm and totally disgusting water.

"Just-say-sorry-Squall-it-won't-kill-you-and-it-will-get-you-off-my-back!" With that last word, I gave his chest one hard shove and he fell...

...To the slimy green water with a great big splash that made me burst out laughing so hard, I doubled over and choked.

Okay, so the notion was too hard to resist. I'd seen the very same scene performed once in a movie, and hell, that got me laughing for a while every time I thought of it, to the point where I started planning how I would carry it out on someone I knew. Besides, I wasn't going to let Squall get away with hurting me (even though maybe he didn't exactly _mean_ to hurt me...the first time anyway...) before I pushed back. I'd kick his ass if I had the power, but hey, I'm nineteen and a _ninja_ with nothing in my arsenal but a small vocabulary yet lot to say and throwing stars that, while sharp enough to stab, dulled in every comparison to Squall's blade.

And hey. At least now that my revenge was fulfilled, I could apologize safely.

Once I stopped laughing, of course.

When I finally managed to get some kind of hold on my laughter, I quieted them to giggles just so I could get a better look at Squall. By this time, he'd risen from the water to his feet, muttering angrily with words that could have rivaled Cid (yeah, we always gotta compare things like this to Cid), and looking, it's almost safe to say, ten times madder than last night.

He was drenched in the water from the lake and the rain from earlier on, probably, but he still marched up to me, glowering like a madman with the look of one, too.

"Yuffie, you are such a little–" he began furiously.

"Brat?" I coughed, smirking mischievously. "Yah, I know." I paused, watching his face narrow even more and wondering how I would say this. "And Squall–"

"Leon," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Yar, whatever... I'll say sorry about last night, if you apologize for hitting me fer no good reason." He sighed, gritting his teeth and hissing each word out one at a time.

"I didn't hit you without a reason to, and I'm not apologizing for it either."

I couldn't deal with this man. No matter what I felt for him, no matter who he was or who we were, I couldn't – and wouldn't – deal with this man. Why, oh why, did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he just give in and be done with it? _WHY_ did he have to persist in having himself bugged and bugged until he had no choice but to cave?

Because, golly, he just wasn't a normal human being.

"Squall, just say sorry and be done with it," I grumbled, rubbing my forehead as a headache began to make itself known. "I'm getting a migraine."

"If you keep calling me Squall, Yuffie, I will not say sorry for _anything_, let alone for the fight last night that was a waste of all time and breath."

"_Leon_," I amended, but adding a whine to my voice, "You're not gonna say sorry, are ya? Yer just going to keep saying hell no until I bang my skull against the ground?"

Squall shrugged. "That wasn't what I was thinking about, but that sounds much more pleasing to the ear."

I groaned and rolled my eyes and stomped my feet and did whatever other actions remained that showed he was getting to me, again. Am I really so weak to bow down to _him_? Aerith, I can understand, but Squall? How could I be so pathetic?

I tried another tact; whether or not I gave in at all, if I was (and it seemed so) I wasn't about to do so without a fight. "If you don't apologize to me, Leonhart, I will not stop bugging ya till you do!" I threatened, throwing his worst nightmare in his face. "And trust me, it'll hurt you far more than it'll hurt _me_."

I grinned as though I knew something Squall didn't, even though that wasn't true, and watched his face contort with confusion, anger, and acceptance, settling on something between anger and acceptance.

"Yuffie?" he asked as I responded with a haughtily triumphant "Hm?" He muttered something to himself first, switching his eyes from the ceiling to myself, then, "You're a measly little bum with nothing better to do with her time except bug me, is that right?"

Struck as I was at his lack of usual cold politeness, I smirked and nodded all the same. I will not let him get the best of me, I will not! Instead, I'll take it as a compliment. Fair enough, right? Right. "Yup, that's right."

"Yeah, I thought so," he muttered, shaking his head.

"So are you going to say sorry?" I asked, this time teasing him because I knew I'd already won.

"Yeah," he muttered, wiping his face with an already-wet hand. "Whatever." He stalked over to get his sword (which flew from his hand to the floor when he...erm...stumbled). I watched as he inspected it for some scratches or other before he swung it up to his shoulders and shook his head in displeasure.

I wonder what would happen if...

Naa. I shouldn't. That's just wrong.

Oh well. Whoever said I should do what's right?

I skipped over to the brown cloth the Fairy Godmother gave me and picked it up, walking over to Squall and holding it up to him.

"It's still rainin', y'know," I said all-knowingly. "You might wanna cover up." His gaze darted from the cloak in my hand to my face so fast and so frequently that I thought he'd get dizzy from the effort. And just when I was thinking of just slinging it over my shoulders again with a, 'It's your loss,' he slowly reached out to take it and pulled it over his shoulders. It came to his ankles, but covered him enough. While the Fairy Godmother's magic would work on me until I got to wherever, Squall would probably catch a cold in this weather if he continued to walk around with just his leather jacket.

And since when did you care so much what happened to Squall? 

Shaking my head at this idiotic question, I went to get my scarf and hat from where I'd left them by the stairs, tugging the cap on and wrapping the scarf messily around my neck, preparing for the rain that no doubt still fell outside.

"Hey, Squ-Leon?" I said as I ascended the stairs with a quiet Squall following. He looked up at me when we came to the lift, him clattering on quietly, me jumping on nimbly. "You owe me fifty munny." I stuck out my tongue at him as the lift began to ascend to the Magician's Study.

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

I folded my arms behind my head, clasping my hands together. "Our awesome manager Daved Cassady took one hundred munny from me this morning for 'disturbing the peace' last night." I made a face at the spot beside Squall's head and he had the gall to smirk.

"Serves you right," was all he said, though it was enough to make me wanna kick him where it hurts.

And just when I thought it might be a good to do so, the lift stopped and we stood in the Magician's Study, Merlin and the Fairy Godmother nowhere in sight. I jumped up to the platform near the table and found a quickly scribbled note in Merlin's weird wiry handwriting saying that he and the Fairy Godmother were in the Hundred Acre Wood taking care of some 'things' and wouldn't be back for a while. After showing it to Squall, I crossed my arms and looked up at him.

"What do ya think?" I asked for no reason in particular. Squall shrugged, throwing the paper back onto the table.

"A pair of old geezers goin' on a honeymoon," he said evenly, shrugging again and making for the exit.

"Ew, Leon...that's just so _gross_," I said to him, rolling my eyes then shutting them tight at the images that unwillingly flashed through my brain. _Did not need to hear that, did not need to hear that!_

And instead of saying something else, I jumped in front of him, muttering obscenities beneath my breath. And deftly kicking him in the shin, I flew from the house, across the lake, and into the rainy Third District to home.

By the time I got back to the Hotel, the Fairy Godmother's spell had worn off (so much for powerful magic...) so I once again had the pleasure of being dripping wet. Nichi the bellhop was in the hallway near the front counter, muttering to himself with a mop in hand and the obvious task of cleaning duty most likely appointed directly by our dear manager Daved. He didn't seem too happy when I jumped into the place and shook myself out to try to dry. No, actually he yelled at me – which was very un-Nichi-like, since, like I said, he was a hippie in all aspects of the word, and which meant that he didn't really like cleaning duty at all – and told me that if I ever soaked his hallway again, he'd hang me by my toes beneath the Gizmo Shop bell.

"I'll hold you to it!" I said in response as I disappeared into my room, smirking and definitely much cheerier than I was in the morning. By the time Squall caught up, I was dry and changed, my wet clothes hanging droopily on the towel holders in the bathroom, my new clothes smelling like a bag of stale potato chips.

Squall disappeared into the bathroom to change, pulling off my cloak and dropping it randomly on the nearest chair and muttering something to himself that sounded like 'cookies' or 'duckies', I couldn't really tell.

When he returned, we simply sat in the room, he near the window, me on the bed, waiting for the rain to stop coming down.

_The rain _had _to stop some time, right? _

I groaned in response to this thought, lying awkwardly on my stomach and trying like hell to concentrate on the stuff Aerith asked me to read. But I wasn't doing a very good job of it, especially not with an empty stomach on my head.

And I thought I was hungry yesterday?

Gimme a break. I hadn't even eaten _breakfast_, let alone the tiniest snack at all today. It was well past seven in the evening and there was still no sign of the rain stopping its torrential assault on our town.

Talk about _annoying_.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Okay, the only 'knock' that cheerful (if you can say a knock shows feelings, in a sense) is...

Squall crossed the room from his position at the table and opened the hallway door, allowing Aerith and Cloud to enter, along with a third figure I didn't care enough to notice until she stepped into the room, looking every inch the diva with a capital D. While Aerith carted one brown paper bag as well as her purse, Cloud was trying to hold onto his humongous sword, another brown paper bag, an umbrella, and a small duffel bag, but the third figure, wrapped in a weird leather trench coat, held nothing but a tacky-looking purse. As soon as they came in, both Aerith and Cloud dropped their belongings near the door, Squall closing and latching it shut behind the three visitors as they did.

The third woman – the Diva – looked exactly as I dubbed her, but only by the expression on her face. Otherwise, she would've looked as Aerith did – calm, quiet, kind, you know her type. But there was an unmistakable snootiness that I detected beneath the surface – and obviously everyone else in the room saw it too, because it wasn't as if I was the greatest judge of character.

She seemed to be twenty-four, twenty-five at the most, but she was short, at least my height, and she had the build of a ninja and that made me the slightest bit jealous. Brown locks were twisted into a high bun at the top of her head, and I could more than tell that the hair was longer than Aerith's – and believe me, hers was _long_. (Question to self: how do people _live_ with long hair like that? And what's so great about it that makes even _men_ want to grow their hair as such? Questions to be thought of at another time...) Her eyes were also brown, but a really deep, deep brown, and, with all my lack of judgmental abilities when it came to personalities, she seemed to be the kind of person who would lie in the blink of an eye if it suited her just fine, and without the slightest feeling of regret. People like that made me nervous because of how shady they were.

"Yuffie! Squall!" began Aerith, and I rolled my eyes plainly at how irritatingly concerned she sounded. "I was wondering where you guys were! When I came to bring you lunch, no one was here, so I thought maybe you went to the café, but Cci said you hadn't been there for the last couple of days." She crossed the room to me, probably noting pleasingly that I was actually reading.

I shrugged, as did Squall. "Woke up late," I muttered, my gaze floating to the two brown bags, completely ignoring the third person to arrive. "Tell me that's food..." Now that was something I was interested in.

Aerith smiled. "Thought we'd bring you some dinner, since it seems you missed eating altogether today."

I looked over Aerith's shoulder to Cloud, who was leaning against the wall beside the door (which Squall was leaning against also), both of them in an almost-the-same pose, arms crossed, staring at us and, just as I, ignoring the fifth person in the room.

"Hey-a, Cloud," I greeted with a smirk.

Cloud muttered something.

"Huh?"

"Hey."

Well that was...blunt to say the least. But whatever the reason for Cloud's seemingly bad mood (the fact that me and Squall had yelled at him last night seemed to have slipped my mind), it went overlooked as Aerith started telling us about her day at the Infirmary and setting out eating utensils for the five people.

Wait...five people...? Oh, right! The Diva.

"Hey, Aerith!" I interrupted her, pointing deliberately at the newcomer, who sniffed in disapproval. Aerith's eyes followed my finger and she shot me a glance that clearly said "Stop pointing." I did, but continued to stare questioningly.

"Right, how could I forget?" Aerith smiled.

"Yeah, how could you?" I prodded, raising and lowering an eyebrow. Aerith grinned sheepishly and motioned for the third woman of the room to step forward, as if she was a special guest on a television show.

"Yes, uhm...this is Genevieve," Aerith introduced as the lady gave an unasked-for bow. I laughed at her openly, and Aerith shot me another look. "She'll be...well, you'll find out what she'll be in a second."

Genevieve looked at Aerith and they seemed to share some kind of secret understanding in an unspoken agreement, because they both nodded and Aerith continued with her disregarded introductions, to which I only listened and participated _in_ because of the flower girl herself. "Genevieve, this is Yuffie, and they are Leon and Cloud." Leon and Cloud barely graced the chick with a nod, while I simply shrugged; I didn't like this girl, and from their not-too-respectful attitudes, I could tell the other two didn't either.

"Hey, Rith," I broke off the young woman when she began finished setting the table and began taking out the delicious-smelling food. She stopped again, polite as always. "Why're we eating in _my_ room, huh?" I asked while rising to my feet, a semi-accusing-but-only-because-I'm-too-tired-to-actually-mean-it kind of manner behind my voice. "No, wait, better yet...who _said_ you could invite a guest to eat in _my_ room?"

"Because we thought you liked room service," Aerith answered while Cloud cocked his head and whispered, "We?" My friend grinned at him and looked at me again, sitting and folding her hands in her lap. "And I thought you might like to meet this guest of mine." She gestured idly to Genevieve, who'd finished her 'inspection' of our room and probably deemed it worthy of the title of 'rathole'. "Don't you want to find out what I'm doing?"

I jumped up, walking cautiously over to the table and sitting across from the twenty-three-year-old. "Er...yeah, I guess..." I blinked.

The flower girl raised one eyebrow, continuing her quest to set all the food out – more ramen noodles! Muaha! ...Rice, vegetables, some sweet-smelling bread, purple pudding, brown noodles, chicken drumsticks...it all smelled so _good_ – and then motioned to the table.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner was a silent and tension-lacquered estate, so different from the atmosphere of our usual, relaxed dinners together, the change triggered most likely by the visitation of Genevieve, who 'preferred' if everyone just called her 'Song'. Yech. Aerith had insisted we finish eating before she announced whatever she was up to this time, and by just the light of her eyes (and all the years I'd known her), I could tell her next project would be big, whatever it would be.

I never thought I'd want a meal to be over with so quickly, but just watching 'Song' eat was making me sick. She was so freaking _polite_ that it made me wonder if she came from some rich family somewhere and obviously had one hell of a reason to grace our lowly town with her imperial presence. I tried calling her 'Jenny', but she glared meanly over our food and 'requested' (bladda bladda bla) that I only call her 'Song' or 'Genevieve' or not to "address me at all." The occupants of the table had gone silent just then, before Aerith's fork clattered noisily to the floor (definitely by accident) and she went to retrieve it, returning red-faced.

But when finally dinner was over and the garbage left over was carted away, Cloud very clearly stated that he was tired and wanted to sleep, only to have Aerith shoot him a loving smile and ask 'sweetly' if he would first hear her out. Squall told her to make it fast (rolling his eyes at me as if we were close friends sharing the same animosity for the same thing) because he really wanted to get to sleep already. I just returned to the bed and tried to read in an effort to be as rude as possible to Song because she was a bitch.

But oh-ho no, Aerith wasn't having any of it and stood at the table beside Genevieve, Cloud on her other hand, with Leon standing by the wall.

"Well, for a few days now, I've been giving this idea a whole lot of thought," Aerith began, and I yawned accidentally, earning a snotty look from two of the three people at the table (Cloud and Song, if you must know). "And I know that maybe I should think more on it – and I will – and that if I do decide to take on this task, it will take a definite long while, and a lot of hard work, but I'm willing to try." She took another breath, and I felt I ought to brace myself. "I'm going to direct a play."

It took a few minutes for Aerith's last words to actually run fully through my brain, but apparently in processed much faster in the minds of the two men, and Aerith's statement was responded by me saying, "Huh?", Squall and Cloud saying, "What?" and Genevieve smirking prettily.

"Aerith," Cloud started, staring at her with an uncharacteristically shocked face, "What do you mean, you're going to direct a play?"

Aerith fidgeted at our reactions; obviously she was expected something either worse than this or better. But it was going to get worse. "Well...you know the Shakespeare thing I've been working on?" Cloud nodded. "I want to put on a production of _Romeo and Juliet_." She shrugged like a little girl who was searching for an excuse as to why she stole the cookie. "Don't you think it's a good idea?"

Cloud sighed. "Aerith...I think that's a really great idea – after all, the town could use some kind of entertainment or fun – but have you really thought this out? Taking on a project that big can take a lot out of you, and, if I know you as well as I think I do, you have the potential to break down when the going gets rough."

Aerith gawked, as did I, at how openly Cloud had said that. But Aerith shook her head while I continued to stare and argued, "Yes, but this is something I really, truly want to do. I know how much work it will be, and I know that all the work won't be easy, but...I think that this town can use it. It would be worth it – look, Mayor Creslyn hasn't done anything big or improving for this town since that big relocation act three years ago." She sighed, motioning to the window where, surprisingly, the rain had dimmed somewhat. "The town needs a project, a task, to them something to do and be proud of."

"Aerith..." Squall finally cut in, rubbing his forehead. "We can understand your concern and everything, but...Blondie's right. Have you thought about how exactly you're going to propose this idea to Creslyn? Have you even though out_ how_ you'll pull it off? What about the cast, the crew...you have all that jazz about preparing them for their lines and whatever – and where are you going to perform it in the first place?"

Aerith shook her head. "Leon, Cloud, you're worrying too much. Yes, I have thought _everything_ out, and I have a distinct idea of what I'm going to do. All I'm looking for is your support and, by any remote chance, your help."

"Rith," I said quietly when it seemed no one else would talk. I stretched out on the bed and shrugged at her, really at a loss of what to say. She seemed really passionate about what she was going to do – but I wonder if she sees just how _huge_ this whole thing was? It made my brain hurt just thinking about it. "You can't really be serious about this?"

Just to make sure.

But Aerith nodded with conviction and sighed. "But I'm not going to be alone, whether you help me or not." She nodded at Song. "Genevieve is the Head Nurse at the Pediatric Ward in the Infirmary, and she's been helping me rewrite the play so it may be understandable and actable." Genevieve nodded also, brushed a stray piece of hair away from her eyes, and smirked as if she was to be held above the rest of us. "She's also going to play the part of Juliet..."

I silently gagged and the motion went noticed by all – and I had the pleasure of seeing both Squall and Cloud smirk and Genevieve scowl.

"Yah, whatever." I shrugged for no reason.

"Aerith..." Cloud said again, this time with an almost warning tone in his voice. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive!" Aerith narrowed her eyes slightly and I would've laughed at how strange she looked, except she also looked as if she'd bite my head off if I said a word. "Why does it seem so wrong to you?"

Cloud jumped and shook his head quickly, waving his hands in front of his face in defense. "No, no, I wasn't saying that." He chose his words so carefully that I had no choice but to laugh at his insecurity when it came to his beloved. "Shut up, Yuffie."

"I didn't say anythin'!" But still, I was smiling.

"Cloud, the least you can do is say congratulations," Aerith said, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Genevieve, I'll see you tomorrow at work." The brown-haired twenty-four-year-old nodded quietly and rose, waving a goodbye to her friend and shooting horrible looks in my, Squall, and Cloud's directions before leaving the room.

"I'm sorry, Aerith, really," Cloud tried, but Aerith stared him down for so long that he fidgeted and I let loose another laugh. "I'm happy for you, really, but I don't want you to get your hopes up on something that's nearly impossible."

"It _would_ be impossible altogether," Aerith said calmly, walking toward the door that connected our room with hers and opening it, "if I didn't have your support at all." She pointed to the floor of their room. "You can sleep on the floor tonight, you ungrateful man."

And with that, our precious, patient, composed little flower girl stormed into her room and shut the door behind her. Not a word to me or Leon about much of anything, though, because she seemed to take offense that we were laughing at her amazing transformation and Cloud's bumbling gibberish as he tried to get back into his room.

Ah, yes. True love at it's finest.

A while after the 'episode', the warm, comforting bed called for me and I wanted so bad to just drop on it and sleep forever in the soothing bliss of sleep. But, however tired I was, I had a lot to think about – Aerith's slight change of attitude minutes before she condemned Cloud to a night on the floor, Aerith's plan to bring that Shakespeare thing to life (which meant that I really had no choice but to read it), and Aerith's friend Genevieve, of whom I'd have no problem of making her life miserable, given the chance she disappoints my best friend in the slightest.

Why is it that Aerith always seems to be on my mind?

Whatever the reason for that disturbing thought, I wouldn't be going to sleep early tonight.

Aerith's moment of bitchiness was nothing; it happens. So I could dismiss that thought easily enough. Still though, her thought to recreate _Romeo and Juliet_ was serious, and that, if anything, surprised me more than it ought to have. Aerith had this kind of creepy talent in which she would take on some colossal undertaking and succeeding when others would have long given up (even though, yeah, she also has the knack for breaking down at some point because of the pressure. She, like I, can't really deal with too much pressure.)

But anyway.

Jeez, even my _brain_ is too tired to think properly. When really I have no good reason _for_ being tired in the first place – I hadn't done much of anything today. Maybe I was getting sick? Oh, yay-ness, isn't that a thought.

Oh, but wait. There's another thought.

"Hey, Leon?" I murmured in a low voice just as he got into bed. He replied with a tired "Hm?" and I sighed in all-tiredness and turned on my side to face him. Not surprisingly, his back was to me. "Are we gonna go back to the Bastion for Christmas?"

Every year, the five of us – Cloud, Aerith, Squall, me and sometimes, to my delight, Cid if he wasn't too busy – would travel back to the Hollow Bastion for the holidays. Yeah, I know what you're probably thinking: why go back to _that_ dead palace? The answer is simple, though confusing if you look into it deeper: our memories of holidays at the Bastion are better than any memories here in the town. While the Bastion is so lonely and devoid of life but quiet, the snowfalls are so pretty and the winters never fail in bringing them, the town's winter weather only held freezing blizzards and blackened snow, with plenty of annoying kids taking advantage of the lack of school and bustling adults.

But despite these facts or because of them, whatever you choose, we hardly ever missed a year to go back to our old home.

But what's to say this year isn't any different?

I watched Squall's back move very slightly, warmth emanating from his person in the soon-to-be-freezing room, and I thought him to have fallen asleep. However, he turned from his side to his back in the perfect position to stare at the ceiling, and his blue eyes were opened yet worn out.

"Should we?" he asked in a voice one volume lower than that his usual speaking tone and I shrugged, still staring at him, though I knew I'd pay for this later.

"It's practically tradition, I guess," I answered. "I think it's a good idea."

My companion shook his head. "I don't. The Heartless problem over there has been growing for the last few years. No doubt it's probably gotten worse. We shouldn't spend Christmas there."

I looked at him in half-disbelief. "I think we should! It's our second home, Squallie, I mean, seriously, we spend Christmas there _every year_!"

Squall growled. "Never, _ever_ call me Squallie." Then he sighed again, shaking his head against the pillow. "It's entirely up to you if you want to go. But I don't think I am."

"Aw, c'mon, Leon!" I whisper-whined, tucking myself beneath the blanket and closing my eyes for just a sec – I'm tired, I'm gonna rest a bit! "It'll be fun..."

I felt Squall's gaze fall on me, but couldn't bring myself to open my eyes – too tired. You know how that can be. Even when the man you love is potentially checking you out, fatigue usually gets the better of us. But I still heard his voice whisper as I began to drop off to sleep – finally. "We'll talk to Aerith and Cloud tomorrow morning about it if you'll leave me alone. Fair?"

I nodded as much as my cushioned head would allow, grinning at how I'd won. "'Course, Squall...whatever you say..."

"And Yuffie?"

"Huh?"

"What do I have to do to get you to stop calling me Squall?"

"Why do you care about your name so much, huh? It's just a name..." I yawned. "It shouldn't matter."

I felt Squall squirm. "I just...don't like it."

"Yar, yar, whatever you say, Squall, whatever you say." I turned over. "It's just a stinkin' name, for pete's sake, it's not like it's the most important thing in the world, y'know."

Were my words slurred?

Probably. Most likely. ...Yah, they were. Damn.

"To some people it is," Squall answered in a murmur.

"And to some it ain't," I retorted, trying to stay awake long enough to see the outcome of _this_ battle of the words.

"Why do you care?"

"'Cause it ain't healthy to be tellin' me to call you one thing when clearly you were named another." I smirked at my own 'cleverness', but man, the sleepiness...

"Just quit it already, Yuf?" I didn't say anything before Squall added, as if to change his tact and see if I'd be shocked enough to comply, "Please?"

Wow, ain't that a first. The mighty-mighty boss-stone actually pleaded. I'm definitely not as shocked as I would have been if I was fully awake, but I was surprised nonetheless.

_Sigh._ "Yah, fine, whatever you say, Squallie. I mean, Leon." I smirked and listened for his response.

"Brat." My eyes shot open to see Squall grinning (though it was somewhat small) good-naturedly at the ceiling.

"Rat-turd!" I hissed, no less softening my angry retorts.

"Midget."

"So not, Leon!" I grumbled, kicking him in the side of his leg under the blankets with whatever strength I still had and rewarded for my efforts with a nice, loud, "OUCH!". "Bossy, pigheaded jerk-off."

He hesitated, not knowing how to respond and I reveled in all my glory. "Just go to bed, Yuffie."

I grinned widely and shut my eyes.

"Or your lack of sleep will make you old, ugly, and decrepit and one day you'll wish you'd never had these verbal wars with me and instead had spent your time sleeping."

_GROWL._

Was he somehow _implying_ that I was ugly or cared more about fighting with _him_ than my beauty rest!? If that's so, then I swear, I'll pummel him the second I wake up...

_Sigh._

Y'know, some old somewhat wise geezer with stark white hair sittin' in a rocking chair 'cross a fire in his forgotten home who had way too much free time that he spent making up quotes for the world to live by once laughed derisively and said: don't fall in love.

To which I would like to add a great big 'Duh'.

_{tbc}_

**[a.n.]** Eck. _Length: 7, 690 words, nineteen pages excluding the usual. _No sneak of the next chapter, I'm afraid. Did not turn how I wanted it to. Did not! Well, it did turn out, criticism is a beseeching on my part, so...please just yell at me and get it over with. –_braces self_– **[araclyzm]**


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